🪽Fire🪽

Verse 1 He walks through neon rain and broken glass, A black-winged rider from a midnight past. His boots keep time with thunder in the street, A rebel prayer in every restless beat. The city spits its rust into the sky, But he was born too wild to crawl and die. A six-string scar across his burning soul, He plays like someone no one ever stole. Chorus 1 He is fire in the wire, He is blood inside the sound, A lonely heart, a loaded choir, Shaking heaven to the ground. When the night becomes a liar, He will scream the truth out loud, He is fire in the wire, And he never bows down. Verse 2 They tried to chain his name to empty fame, To sell his storm, to put a price on flame. But he drinks moonlight like a bitter wine, And leaves their golden cages far behind. His shadow dances with the siren lights, His laughter cuts through all their velvet knives. He wears his sins like medals on his chest, And turns each wound into an anthem’s crest. Chorus 2 He is fire in the wire, He is blood inside the sound, A shattered king, a street-born choir, Dragging silence through the crowd. When the cold demands surrender, He will tear the dark apart, He is fire in the wire, With a riot in his heart. Verse 3 One day the dawn will find him pale and torn, Like every outlaw saint the storm has worn. But even then his echo won’t decay, It’ll live in amps and smoke after the day. For every kid with lightning in his veins, For every soul that never fit the chains, He leaves a spark beneath the asphalt sky: Live loud, burn bright, and never ask them why. Chorus 3 He is fire in the wire, He is blood inside the sound, The last flame of a fallen empire, Still too fierce to drown. When the world becomes a prison, He will crack the iron crown, He is fire in the wire, And he never bows down.