Weight of a Closed Fist (wersja 2)

Intro

Corner of Kestrel and Ninth, streetlight buzzing amber

Dice still hit the pavement like they're counting every chamber

I keep my right hand loose, my left hand in my coat

That's the only kind of armor I know how to tote

Verse

Tyrell called me soft cause I walked off from a jab

Said real ones swing back, said I moved like I was scared

But my daddy's hands were closed the night the bailiff came

Watched him grip the rail till his knuckles lost their name

Fifteen years for a fight wasn't worth the second

Learned the cost of a fist before I learned the lesson

So when Marcus flicked a quarter off my chest like nothing

I let it drop, let it roll, let the silence do the punching

Little brother watching from the stoop, eyes like a camera

Didn't want his first lesson to be my hand as hammer

Walked home slow past the barbershop, mirror caught my face

Saw the man I could've been standing in that space

Kept my hand deep in my pocket like a secret I could spend

Weight of what I didn't do outlasts any friend

Some nights that quiet feels like carrying a stone

But it's the only kind of proof a closed hand's ever shown

Chorus

The weight of a closed fist

Is heavier than the swing

I carry it in my pocket

Like a coin I never spend

Kept it tight since Kestrel Ave

Never let it hit the ground

Weight of a closed fist

Is the quietest sound

Verse

Three weeks later Marcus owed a debt to a man named Cole

Came to me for cover, said "you got my back, I know"

Told him loyalty ain't a blade you swing for free

Told him watch how I move, that's the lesson, watch me

Cole rolled up in a Buick, rust eating the door

Words got heavy, air got thick like the summer before

My fist balled up on instinct, old blood in the bone

Thought about my daddy's cell, thought about the phone

Calls that came collect, Momma crying on the line

Decided right there some scars ain't worth being mine

Opened up my hand instead, offered Cole a shake

Said we settle this in daylight, not the kind mistakes make

Marcus paid it back in weeks, working at the yard

Told me "you saved me twice, once soft and once hard"

Little brother still don't know how close it came to breaking

Just knows his big bro walks calm through every shaking

Chorus

The weight of a closed fist

Is heavier than the swing

I carry it in my pocket

Like a coin I never spend

Kept it tight since Kestrel Ave

Never let it hit the ground

Weight of a closed fist

Is the quietest sound

Bridge

Some nights I still feel the itch under my skin

Ghost of every swing I could've let back in

They don't put statues up for hands that stayed still

No song for the quiet, no praise for the will

But my brother's twenty now, ain't never thrown a fist

Says he learned it watching me hold mine like this

That's the receipt I needed, that's the currency that's real

Not the scar on the knuckle, but the son who didn't kneel

Outro

Kestrel Ave still buzzing, dice still hit the ground

I walk it open-handed, quietest man around