Bones of the Old Kings (versione 2)

Intro

Grandfather's hands still moving in the dark

Palms up, calluses mapped like a chart

He said the work don't end when the sun goes down

The work is what keeps you from the ground

Verse 1

He worked the factory line, thirty years the same machine

Six a.m. to six p.m., concrete and steam

Lunch was two white rolls and a thermos of black coffee

Came home with metal shavings in his sleeves, in his cuffs, embedded deep

My grandmother would pick them out with tweezers at the sink

He'd fall asleep before she finished, head bent forward in a blink

They had three kids on that wage, paid the rent to a man who owned the block

Saved enough to put a down on a house, every dollar worn and fought

He never spoke about the ache, the way his spine was bent

Just moved through the morning like a debt that had to get paid and spent

I watched him age into the work, become the work itself

Said the only thing that kills you faster than the job is asking for help

Chorus

These bones built something that won't crumble

These bones hold weight and never stumble

These bones kept moving when the world went cold

These bones, these bones, these bones, they don't grow old

Verse 2

Now I'm walking the same block, different trap, different trade

Same math though—survival is a ledger that don't fade

I count hours like my grandfather counted coins

Every shift a brick, every month a choice between some wants and needs I can't avoid

The young cats think the money moves fast, think it's clean

I show them the scar tissue underneath, the machine

That grinds you down to purpose if you let it, if you stay

My grandfather said the secret ain't winning, it's learning to live another day

So I stack what I can, keep it moving, keep it quiet, keep it wise

Don't celebrate the small wins, that's how complacency buys your demise

He's seventy now, still checks in on me, still got that weight in his stare

Says the blood runs the same, son—endurance is an answer to a prayer

Chorus

These bones built something that won't crumble

These bones hold weight and never stumble

These bones kept moving when the world went cold

These bones, these bones, these bones, they don't grow old

Verse 3

They paved over the factory where he spent his life

Put up a parking lot, a clinic, a site

For something new that'll benefit the neighborhood they say

But his pension went to lawyers, and the paperwork delayed

Still, he don't complain, just walks past that empty lot

Says the work we do is bigger than the place where we worked or not

It lives in how you carry yourself, how you show your kids to stand

It lives in every version of yourself that kept moving through the sand

I think about that when the pressure mounts, when the block gets thin and cold

When the young ones look at me for answers, when I'm barely holding fold

I touch the scar on my forearm—his name, his year, his date

And I move like I was built for this, like I was built to wait

Outro

Grandfather's hands still moving in the dark