Crybaby C

Into the Ice

Cordon bleu, a cold drink in the garden, everything I ever asked for granted, and there I sit, red in the face, still scanning for the knife. Crybaby, put it down: you're holding smoke and calling it a crown. I wore my suffering so long it started to feel like armour, and under it there's only a man in a life that fits. That's the part that scares me, that the war might simply be over. Stop performing the wound and walk into the bloom.

Lyrics

CRYBABY
Cordon bleu and cold Hugo in the garden
Begging pardon from a universe that already pardoned
Everything you asked for, granted, still you're standing
At the altar of your damage, demanding understanding
From a mirror that's been showing you the answer since the morning
But you keep reframing sunshine into warning
Fat man in the water, red face, good life
Still scanning for the knife
Crybaby
Put it down
You're holding smoke and calling it a crown
Crybaby
Turn around
The thing you're chasing is the thing you found
She's not gone, she's not hiding, she's not in the corridor
She's the woman at the table that you're too blind to adore
While you're summoning your anima your actual girl is glowing
And the only one not knowing what the whole room's knowing is the poet
Who wrote the manual on mirrors then forgot to use his own
Built a vault, taught a raven, gave the Logian a throne
Then sat down in the whirlpool crying nobody's home
Brother, everybody's home
You're the one who won't sit down and own it
Crybaby
Put it down
You're holding smoke and calling it a crown
Crybaby
Turn around
The thing you're chasing is the thing you found
Pilgrim walked the Camino with the ashes and the hound
Came back, built a brand inside a bank he wants to burn down
Coined a species, named a philosophy, published the manual
Then panicked at the quiet like a soldier without ammo
You weaponized your suffering so long it feels like armor
Take it off and what's beneath it is a farmer
Growing everything he needs in soil he salted out of habit
Sees the harvest, grabs the casket
Tragic? Nah. That's just a crybaby being dramatic
Five holds in your arms and you're still reaching for a sixth
Presence, shadow, body, contradiction, mortality
And the one you won't admit: the fear that peace is all there is
No enemy, no comeback arc, no phoenix from the pit
Just a man inside a life that fits
And it terrifies you, doesn't it
That the war might just be quit
The water's cold
Your skin is warm
The girl inside is done performing storms
She's at the table
With your bread
She's in the bed
She's in your head
She never left
Crybaby
Let it go
You buried every seed you'll ever sow
Crybaby
Let it grow
The tears were rain
The pain was the terrain
Now stop
Performing the wound
And walk into the bloom

Words and music: Romian Nazlab · A Bonfire Production