Cold coffee, windows in a gray house,

Verse 1:
Cold coffee, windows in a gray house,
We started where hopes were rotting.
Holes in my pocket, fog in my head,
The whole world seemed like a cruel deception.
I bet everything: my nerves and my hope,
Traded comfort for a life that became rarer,
In a gamble with the darkness of the night,
Where every risk was dictated by me.

Verse 2:
I built walls from other people's rejections,
Lost friends and the meaning of stupid phrases.
The poison of insomnia wove into concrete and steel,
Staring into the empty, scorched distance.
For every step—a blow to the gut from fate,
But I'm used to being in the eternal twilight with myself.
I went to the bottom to find a diamond there,
Under the neon light of spit-stained storefronts and phrases.

Chorus:
The jazz of silence resounds on the brink of collapse,
The price of success is the thin edge of a cliff.
I rose when I was almost extinguished,
But the emptiness stares us down.
Family and home are like a quiet island in the sea,
My shield from the world, grown on a mountain.
Children's cries are the echo of my victories,
And the cold, old light fades in them.