**[Fast. Breathless. Almost too much.]**
Give me the list.
Give me the mess.
Give me the thing
No one else wants left.
Give me the late one.
Give me the wrong.
Give me the pile
That’s been sitting too long.
I’ll carry it.
Sort it.
Name it.
Move it.
Fix what was broken
Before they can prove it.
One more.
One more.
One more thing.
**[Music climbing harder]**
Keep the hands moving.
Keep the head full.
Keep the day crowded.
Keep the room useful.
Don’t leave a gap.
Don’t leave a space.
Don’t let the silence
Catch up with my face.
**[CUT]**
...
**[Almost nothing]**
And then there is nothing.
No urgency.
No problem.
No one asking.
Just the chair.
Just the room.
Just me.
**[Long pause]**
I should enjoy this.
I should be tired enough
to enjoy this.
I should know how.
But the quiet starts asking questions
I was too busy to hear.
Was any of it enough?
Was I?
**[Low sound begins, barely there]**
I look at all the things I carried
and somehow see the things I didn’t.
The hours become evidence.
The rest becomes accusation.
Even the sunlight feels like
something I haven’t earned.
**[Silence again]**
So I wait.
For the next thing.
Anything.
**[Pulse returns]**
A message.
A problem.
A reason.
There.
There I am.
**[Sudden full return — stronger than before]**
Give me the list.
Give me the mess.
Give me the thing
No one else wants left.
Fill every minute.
Close every gap.
Build me a bridge
so I don’t look down.
One more.
One more.
One more thing.
**[Everything stops except one voice]**
Because sometimes
the hardest place to stand
is where nothing
needs me.
Musically, the first high should feel almost manic in momentum without sounding triumphant—rapid guitar, accelerating percussion, stacked or doubled vocal phrases. The middle chasm should become brutally sparse: perhaps room noise, one sustained note, breathing, and lots of actual empty space. Then the final high returns harder, but now the listener understands it differently. What sounded like drive at the beginning now also sounds like escape.
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