Lyrics
[The Hook: A sharp, repetitive guitar chime that sounds like a warning signal, Verse 1] Check the door, check the lock, check the sweat on my palm I’ve been medicating chaos just to feel a little calm. But the stillness is a lie, yeah, the stillness is a trap I’m a map with no legend, I’m a soul in the gap. I see the version of me from 2017 He’s still sitting in the garden, he’s still keeping it green But the weeds are made of iron and the sun is made of lead And I’m tired of the dialogue inside of my head! [Pre-Chorus] The gears are grinding, sparks in the dark I’m looking for the exit, I’m looking for the spark. It’s not a clean break, it’s a jagged-edge tear— I’m breathing in the static, I’m breathing in the air! [Chorus] It’s the Friction, baby, of the soul against the stone The sound of a heart finally finding its own. I’m done with the "almost," I’m done with the "wait" I’m crashing through the hinges of a rusted-shut gate. It’s uncomfortable, it’s loud, it’s a beautiful mess But I’d rather feel the Friction than feel nothing, I guess! [Verse 2, Bass-heavy, snap-rhythm] You (The Mirror) keep asking if I’m ready to go Like I haven’t spent a decade saying "I don't know." Well, "I don't know" is a coffin, and "maybe" is a ghost And I’m the one who’s toasted at this pity-party roast. Stop the sequence, stop the loop, stop the digital hum I’m not waiting for the rhythm, I’m the beat of the drum. If the memories are anchors, then I’m cutting the line— I’d rather be drifting than wasting my time! [Bridge, Music strips back to a frantic, distorted guitar riff] (The Friction!) It’s supposed to hurt! (The Friction!) It’s supposed to burn! (The Friction!) You can't get to the sky without leaving the dirt! (The Friction!) I’m shedding the skin! (The Friction!) I’m letting it in! Where do I end and where do I begin?! [Chorus] It’s the Friction, baby, of the soul against the stone The sound of a heart finally finding its own. I’m done with the "almost," I’m done with the "wait" I’m crashing through the hinges of a rusted-shut gate. It’s uncomfortable, it’s loud, it’s a beautiful mess But I’d rather feel the Friction than feel nothing, I guess! [Outro, Tempo stays fast, but the guitars start to shimmer/wash out] Feel it move. Feel it break. Everything's a choice that I’m finally awake to make. No more "steeled heart." No more "stalled start." Just the heat of the motion... Just the heat of the motion... F*** it [Feedback swells and cuts sharply into silence]