Nothing Left to Fight

Lyrics

[Intro]
Home is a room that forgot how to breathe.
Cold threads the empty doorway I never thought I’d cross.
My name falls off the walls without an answer.
I stand here, shaking, with nothing aiming back.

[Verse 1]
Ash sleeps in the hearth like a field after fire,
Dust on the table where a bowl ought to be.
Boots by the threshold, mud dried to a map,
Mail shirt folded, but it creaks in my memory.
My hands won’t stop shaking — they rattle the latch,
Like tin in a wind that’s run out of road.
There’s a sword by the door that remembers my weight,
Too heavy to hold and too heavy to drop.

[Pre-Chorus]
I was made to keep iron between me and the night,
To count by the pulse in my throat and obey it.
No one taught me where to put the blade
When the dark finally turned and walked away.
(low male chant beneath, a distant hearth of voices)

[Chorus]
Silence wears a face I never learned to read,
Pale as the terrifying softness of morning light.
I don’t know where to set these shaking hands,
Or how to sleep when the walls don’t cry.
If peace is the enemy I was never trained to fight,
Teach me how to live when there’s nothing left to fight.
Teach me how to live when there’s nothing left to fight.

[Drop]
[Instrumental Break — Solo violin cries a battle-scarred melody over growling dubstep bass and halftime war drums; electric guitar swells, low male “hey” chants in the distance]

[Verse 2]
Steam hisses from the kettle — I flinch like an arrow,
A sparrow taps glass and I reach for my shield.
Bread on the sill tastes like snow after blood,
I chew through the quiet until I can feel.
I set the blade on the table — it dents the soft wood,
A riverbed carved by the years I was gone.
I trace that groove with a tremor I can’t hide,
As if I could draw a road out of the war.
The doorway stays empty. I leave it that way,
A chair pulled for the ghosts that won’t come in.
I count the breaths against the boards,
And learn what a house sounds like when it forgives.

[Pre-Chorus 2]
I was trained to run toward the thunder and sing with it,
To make my ribs a drum and my fear a rope.
No one showed me how to cup the morning
Without turning it back into smoke.
(low male chant rises under, a warm, rough drone)

[Chorus 2]
Silence wears a face I never learned to read,
Soft as the linen I never dared to own.
I don’t know where to set these shaking hands,
Or how to sleep when the night comes alone.
If peace is the mountain I was never taught to climb,
Tie me to the light and pull me toward the height.
Teach me how to live when there’s nothing left to fight.
Teach me how to live when there’s nothing left to fight.

[Drop 2]
[Instrumental Break — Violin leads a fiercer lament, bow hair to the string, over snarling bass and taiko hits; halftime drums surge, low brass swells; war-chant “ho—hey” rumbles beneath]

[Bridge]
Morning is a mercy that terrifies.
I open the window and it does not strike.
I set the sword down. It does not fall through me.
I name the ghosts, and they don’t answer back.
A cup in both hands — I wait for the tremor to pass.
Piano-thin light on the floorboards. I breathe.
If the world can be this gentle and not break,
Maybe I can learn how to be, and not break.

[Chant Break]
(Chant: Hey—ho—hey—ho)
Lay it down. Breathe slow. Lay it down. Breathe slow.
(Chant: Hey—ho—hey—ho)
Hands to the cup, not the hilt tonight.
(Chant: Hey—ho—hey—ho)
We are the fire that won’t demand a war.
(Chant: Hey—ho—hey—ho)
Live. Live. Live.

[Final Chorus]
Silence wears a face I am learning to read,
A softness that does not ask me to bleed.
I’m finding where to set these shaking hands —
Around a name, around a door, around the light.
If peace is the enemy I was never trained to face,
I’ll face it, slow, with open eyes tonight.
Teach me how to live when there’s nothing left to fight,
And I will learn to live when there’s nothing left to fight.
Teach me how to live when there’s nothing left to fight —
Teach me, and I will stay to learn this life.

[Outro]
I leave the doorway empty and step inside.
The sword remembers the table. The house remembers to breathe.
My hands go still around the morning.
A single heartbeat. A single violin. Quiet.