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Sevak – Жди меня там (D Rauff Remix) 2022

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Жди Меня Там (Remix by RILTIM)

Sevak - Жди Меня Там (Remix By RILTIM)

Every Day

I learned early not to ask for too much
someone always had it worse.
If I cried, they said, “You’re fine,”
so I learned to smile first.
Some of us had parents fighting,
some just had the silence thick as walls.
Either way, I learned to shrink
before I learned to call.

I build exits into every conversation,
I pull away before you know my name.
Call it coping, call it preservation,
but it’s fear wearing someone else’s face.
Yeah, I build exits into every conversation
and then I hate the quiet that remains.

Some of us grew up fixing things
we didn’t break ourselves.
Some of us got used to praise
that only came when we excelled.
I say I’m busy when I’m lonely,
I ghost before I’m ghosted back.
I joke too soon, I care too late,
I call it freedom, but it’s lack.

I build exits into every conversation,
I pull away before you know my name.
Call it coping, call it preservation,
but it’s fear wearing someone else’s face.
Yeah, I build exits into every conversation and then I hate the quiet that remains.

I’m not heartless, I’m rehearsed.
Every kindness comes with proof.
I wait for people to leave
just to say, “See? I knew.”
I call it strong, I call it smart,
but really, it’s just scared dressed sharp.

I build exits into every conversation,
turn open doors into escape plans.
Call it coping, call it survival,
but I’m still that kid, just grown-up hands.
Yeah, I build exits into every conversation
and I wish I knew how not to.

exits

I sat in a room tonight while a woman said
your body is a temple made by God Himself.
And something in me softened
some old instinct I don’t admit I have.
She spoke of cells repairing,
bones remembering, scars dissolving like snow.
And even though I don’t believe her scripture,
I still believed the glow.

’Cause I’ve read the stories, too
the hunters praying for rain,
the farmers begging sun,
the kings who carved commands into stone
and called it sacred.
Every era draws its own God
in whatever shape keeps the world from shaking apart.
And I feel the pull of that comfort
even as it breaks my heart.

But if Your name falls out of human mouths,
is it still holy, or just ours?
If fear can dress itself as faith,
then what are we praying for?
I want to trust in something vast,
but not the violence we’ve adored.
If there’s a God behind the curtain
I hope He’s nothing like the wars.

They say the universe is perfect
that one degree off and we wouldn’t be here.
And I admit it
that thought makes me tremble,
makes me small in a way I almost like.
But then I look at history bleeding out
under banners sewn with scripture,
and I wonder if God is a mirror
or just the prettiest story we can write.

But if Your name falls out of human mouths,
is it still holy, or just ours?
If fear can dress itself as faith,
then what are we praying for?
I want to trust in something vast,
but not the violence we’ve adored.
If there’s a God behind the curtain
I hope He’s nothing like the wars.

I don’t know the truth.
But I know the ache.
The wanting to belong to something
that won’t bend or break.
But every holy book I’ve held
still smells like mortal hands.
Ink of kingdoms, grief of ages,
rules written by frightened men.

So if Your name falls out of human mouths,
is it still holy, or just ours?
If fear can dress itself as faith,
then what are we praying for?
I want to trust in something vast,
but not the violence we’ve adored.
If there’s a God behind the curtain
I hope He’s gentler than our wars.

i almost believe

My opinions are a hurricane.
I drop them anywhere I go.
Every thought I have is gospel,
every whisper, truth I know.
I’m saving strangers from themselves,
one comment at a time.
Doesn’t matter if they asked
correction is divine.

I SPEAK, because I’m certain.
I WRITE, because I’m right.
My voice is just a warning
to keep the world in line.
I SPEAK, because I must be heard.
I WRITE, to keep you sane.
If you don’t like what I’m saying
I’ll say it all again.

My opinions are a hurricane,
I’m the keeper of the truth.
If I don’t correct your thinking
who’s gonna do it for you?
I scroll to find the chaos,
then I jump into the fight.
I don’t need to know the story
I just know that I am right.

I SPEAK, because I’m certain.
I WRITE, because I’m right.
My voice is just a warning
to keep the world in line.
I SPEAK, because I must be heard.
I WRITE, to keep you sane.
If you don’t like what I’m saying
I’ll say it all again.

My opinions are a hurricane.
Everyone should feel the wind.
I shake the world with every word
that’s how the storms begin.

I SPEAK, because I’m certain.
I WRITE, because I’m right.
My voice is just a warning
to keep the world in line.
I SPEAK, because I must be heard.
I WRITE, to keep you sane.
If you don’t like what I’m saying
I’ll say it all again.

truthsayer

Don’t make a scene.
Don’t let the room see your jaw go soft.
You know what they think of men who flinch
weak, useless, knock-off.
So breathe through the panic
like you’ve practiced since you were eight:
chin up, chest out,
every feeling locked behind the gate.

If they hear the shake in your voice,
they’ll decide who you are before you speak.
A man who loses his footing
is a man they call weak.
So stand still.
Hold the line.
Pretend you’re fine.
Push it down until it bruises.

Men are steady.
Men are stone. 
Men don’t falter.
Men die alone.

What a fucking joke this is.
The script, the silence, the cage we live.
Inside, it’s shame and fear and noise
a storm no one was taught to voice.
What a fucking joke this is
pretending steel when it’s just skin thin.

You learned early that tears
make people step back, not closer.
That a trembling hand
means you’ve already lost composure.
So you keep your sadness folded
in the inside pocket of your shirt,
carry it like contraband,
pray no one sees it hurt.

And every time you break in private,
you swear it’ll be the last.
But your chest is a pressure valve
that no one taught you how to unlatch.
You laugh too loud, you talk too little
anything to look intact.
God forbid someone asks,
and you don’t know how to answer back.

Men are steady.
Men are stone.
Men don’t falter.
Men die alone.

What a fucking joke this is.
The rules, the pride, the walls we build.
Inside, it’s panic wrapped in bone,
a lifetime taught to die alone.
What a fucking joke this is
surviving silence as a skill.

They told you needing help
was the same as being a burden.
They told you asking for comfort
made you less of a person.
But you weren’t born with that lie
it was handed to you like a weapon.
And every man you know is bleeding from it,
silently, perfectly,
just as expected.

Men are steady. 
Men are stone. 
Men don’t falter.
Men die alone. 

What a fucking joke this is.
You’re human, not a monument.
You break, you shake, you feel
and that was never an accident.
What a fucking joke this is
the lie that turned warm boys into cold men.
Let the truth in.
Let the truth in.

real men die alone

You terrify me.
Not because you're loud
but because nothing lands in you.
No word.
No feeling.
No consequence.
I speak and it disappears,
like the air is made for you alone.

Every time I try to meet you,
I hit the edge of your world
and fall right through it.

I'm done looking for a doorway
in a place that has no door.

Grey Kingdom. Grey Kingdom.
I'm done with barren ground.
Grey Kingdom. Grey Kingdom.
Where only you are allowed.
You move like you’re the center
of a world nobody else can see
and gods, the emptiness of it
is what terrifies me.

You take every good thing
and pin it to yourself like a medal.
My wins become your reflection.
Your failures become my betrayal.
You say you're misunderstood
but you’ve never tried understanding.
Talking to you is shouting into stone.
All I get back
is your version of pain.

Reaching for you isn’t reaching
there’s nothing there to reach.

Grey Kingdom. Grey Kingdom.
I'm done with barren ground.
Grey Kingdom. Grey Kingdom.
Where only you are allowed.
You move like you’re the center
of a world nobody else can see
and gods, the emptiness of it
is what terrifies me.

Ha-ha.
Look at the logic break.
Ha-ha.
Everything bends your way.
Ha-ha.
No truth gets through
not even yours.

Grey Kingdom. Grey Kingdom.
I'm done with barren ground.
Grey Kingdom. Grey Kingdom.
Where only you are allowed
You move like you’re the center
of a world nobody else can see
and gods, the emptiness of it
is what terrifies me.

grey kingdom

I thought I’d be important.
I thought I’d be brave.
I thought I’d be standing
where the fire meets the wave.

I thought I’d be important.
I thought I’d be brave.
I thought I’d be standing
where the fire meets the wave.

I thought there was a moment
where the music would swell,
where good and evil
would ring a bell.

I waited for the sign.
I waited to be called.

I miss the hero I was.
I miss the way it felt.
When the world was a story
and I was someone else.

I miss the hero I was.
Before the quiet won.

Now I count the hours.
I count the days.
I learn how to stand
in smaller ways.

I don’t fight monsters.
I don’t save the world.
I just keep breathing
when the nights go cold.

No prophecy.
No final test.

No prophecy.
No final test.

I miss the hero I was.
I miss the way it felt.
When the world was a story
and I was someone else.

I miss the hero I was.
Before the quiet won.

They never told me
that the ending wouldn’t crash.
That it would fade out slowly,
soft and flat.

They never told me
this is how it goes
you don’t die young,
you just grow old.

No

exits

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