The story
He keeps moving while the room closes in.
He counts his breath in a house that feels too small, with the clock loud and the air thin. Each little task becomes a railing to hold: standing by the sink, staring at the floor, pushing through one more minute while the pressure builds. He does not beat it; he just keeps breathing until the next wave comes.
No lyric sheet is published for this track, so this reading is drawn from its title and the sound of the record.
Lyrics
The lyric sheet for this one isn't published yet — press play and listen along.