Okay now—breathe in, keep walking
Don’t matter what broke, keep talking
It gets better, yeah it gets better

She said, “The car broke down on the Texas line”
He said, “Perfect, we’re just in time”
Kicked the dust, wiped blood from his brow
Said, “Life ain’t waitin’, so we start right now”
Then he looked out west with a crooked grin
Said, “You get knocked down, you get back in
Don’t need luck when your lungs still breathe,
The world throws punches, but you never leave”
And they marched through dirt with the sky on fire
Said, “It’s pain that shapes you—not desire”

I lost my name in a motel drawer
Left my pride in a grocery store
But I got this tune and a stubborn friend
And we both believe the ache might end
 
It gets better—don’t ask how
You just wake up and it hurts less now
It gets better—ain’t no plan
Just a sunburnt kiss and an open hand
It gets better 
It gets better 
Oh-oh-oh—it gets better!

Oh, the rain don’t warn you
And the road don’t end
But we all keep walking
And we all pretend
'Til one day—
It’s not pretend
It’s not pretend
It’s not pretend

Found a photo taped to the dash with sweat
He said, “That’s the day I learned to forget—
Not the love, but the fear that chased it
Not the road, just the way I faced it”
She said, “You fall, but you fall with teeth”
He laughed, “Yeah, and I land on beat”
Every scar in the mirror, I framed it gold
'Cause the cracks in the story are how it's told
We don’t pray for the pain to end
We pray for the grit to rise again

It gets better—don’t ask how
You just wake up and it hurts less now
It gets better—ain’t no plan
Just a sunburnt kiss and an open hand
It gets better 
It gets better 
La-la-la, it gets better!

It gets better!
It gets better!

It gets better—like a fire escape
Like a song you sing when you’re half-awake
It gets better—like a runaway train
But the kind that flies, not the kind that pains
It gets better! 
It gets better!
Oh-oh-oh—it gets better!

“Do it again!”


It Gets Better

It rolls in quiet like a hungover prayer
Shakes the screen door, lifts the porch chair
You weren’t on my mind ‘til the still went strange
But I knew that sound, and I knew that name

You come like smoke through a slivered crack
Whiskey words and a coat half-black
Say you’re just passing through for the night
But I still hide the good knives out of sight

Bad wind, blowin’ where you please
Takes the roof, takes the trees
You don’t knock, you don’t stay
You just howl what you don’t say
Bad wind, I know your kind
Always leave more gone than you find

Yeah, I still feel

You kissed like guilt with a Sunday face
Told me losing you was some kind of grace
But I kept that picture in the bathroom drawer
‘Cause you only leave when I start to restore

Some call it weakness, some call it fate
But I just call it late
You don’t kick the storm when it’s halfway in
You board the windows and you let it spin

I’ve laid out the cups, I’ve cleared the floor
I’ve seen this devil, wore this war
I pray for mercy I don’t believe
Then I bless your boots when you finally leave

You don’t ask why when you know it’s wrong
You just hold your breath and hope it’s gone
And I’d take you in if you knocked again
‘Cause I don’t outgrow the bad wind

Bad wind, blowin’ where you please
Takes the roof, takes the trees
You don’t knock, you don’t stay
You just howl what you don’t say
Bad wind, I know your kind
Always leave more gone than you find

And when the morning smells like copper and rain
I sweep the glass, and I don’t complain

Bad Wind

Oh, love my girl
She's a lit fuse in a rusted world
Scrollin' past the filters, lean in
We don’t kneel, don’t toe their line
Nobody’s getting out just fine
You chase yours, baby
I’ll get mine
Gonna rip it out this time
Oh, yeah!

The old keep preachin’
But we keep reachin’
Could snap tonight
At their old teachin'
They’ve got drones
But we’ve got the numbers
New blood risin’
Kickin' up from under

Come on!
Your red-carpet days are done, baby
The screen goes black, but we still burn, baby
What they built is crackin’
Watch the whole thing turn
Watch the whole thing turn
Watch the whole thing burn
Admire the fire, baby

Yeah, she leans in close
With her tongue like a dare
Talkin’ sins, not stories
While she tangles my hair
Yeah, you walk that edge
With a glass neck in your grip
Sayin' no one gets it—but we’ve lived through it
Clocked your life out for some hollow clicks
We’re comin’ through, baby—no parlor tricks

We rise, we grind, no leash, no border
One match lit, now feel the order
We ride, we spin, we chase that fever
One more hit, get lost, don’t need her
We rise, we grind, no comin’ back
No step back when you attack

Hey, go bunker down, baby
I’ll break through the wires
Gotta ride with the chaos
While the whole thing tires
Hey, don’t wait up, baby
The dark runs deep tonight
I got her mouth in my ear
And the fire’s feelin’ right

We rise, we grind, no leash, no border
We rise, we grind, now feel the order
We ride, we spin, we chase that fever
We rise, we grind, get lost, don’t need her

But I love my girl
She’s got teeth and smoke in her stare
Yeah, I see you
Come on

Yeah, love my girl
She’s sharp, electric—lookin’ real good
Yeah, I see you
Come on



Admire The Fire

The old pine floor smells like bleach and regret
The stumblin' sun ain't climbed the steps yet
She folds his flannels like she’s making peace
With every wrinkle he left in the sheets

The anchorman screams on Channel 3
Miller cans stacked like late apologies
There's a kid’s toy gun in the window sill
And a light that's been blinking since the cotton mill

And she says, “This ain’t the life I thought I’d keep
But it’s warmer than the dreams I lost in sleep
He never writes, but I know where he’s been
Every stain on his shirt says it louder than him”
She sings to the spin of the old Maytag
Low country laundry and a heart in a plastic bag

She lit one smoke off the back porch light
Watched the neighbors dance in their TV fights
Her hands are red from all the powdered soap
Like she’s scrubbing out the last marrow of hope

She don’t pray, not out loud at least
But her eyes close long when the rinse hits the crease
A silent plea in the spin and the grind
For a moment's peace she can never quite find
There’s grace in the way she never calls it grace
Just rinse, repeat, then wipe her face
With a faded rag, she wipes away the day
But the ghost of his leaving won't ever wash away.

“This ain’t the life I thought I’d keep
But it’s warmer than the dreams I lost in sleep
He never writes, but I know where he’s been
Every stain on his shirt says it louder than him”
She sings to the spin of the old Maytag
Low country laundry and a heart in a plastic bag

There's a man in town fixing driers for cheap
But she don’t want it fixed—she needs time to think
Each cycle a chapter she doesn’t retell
Just waits for the buzz and the steam and the smell

Low Country Laundry

There’s a coastline stitched in whisper-thread,
Where brackish reeds make up the dead.
The gulls all scream in cursive flight,
Their wings inscribe the failing light—
And silence nests where prayers once bled.

There’s a dock drowned under silt and bone,
A mastless ship that forever sails alone.
Its hull is lined with lovers' oaths,
Its anchor snagged in wedding clothes—
No compass left to point or guide you home.

The tide forgets your name,
The wind erases maps.
We rose once, high and wild—
Now drift where time collapse.
The stars have turned their backs,
The lanterns lost their flame.
Come and see. Come and see.
No one ever leaves the same.

In lowland hollows, warm and deep,
A cradle rocks a child to sleep.
The mother’s teeth are sharp as grief,
She sings beneath the coral reef—
Her lullaby a vow to keep.

I wandered past the old salt mill,
And met a girl so strange and still.
She wore no name, just storm for eyes—
I spoke of gold, she spoke of lies.
She said, “You’ll never leave this hill.”

No silver coins, no bloodied blade,
Could part the night from what it made.
I kissed her once and felt the sea
Pour down my throat, unceasingly.
She sang, “You’re here with me, with me...”
I said, Come with me, Come and see

Lay dimes upon the drowned,
A toll to pass the shoal.
No bell will chime for you—
No ledger names your soul.
Forget your father's voice son,
He never made you tough.
Forget your mother’s hymn boy.
She never showed you love.
Go to sleep now, little bastard.
You won’t feel the sinking.
You won’t fight the drowning.
You won’t fight the drowning.

The Bone Jar Hymn

Rows of windows all breathing in the dust
I can feel their cold light watching us
All these days, they fall in motion
All these days, we learn to carry stone
Then bleed out again
Then bleed out

This mirror will, will not reflect me right
It forgets the name I held last night
Drink red fourty, hold the silence
Before we all return beneath the stone
Then bleed out again
Then bleed out

Cracked bones, every limb
Burning bright and then goes dim,
Tastless dreams,and grinding teeth
Cut my feet on a jagged reef

All these days, they fall in motion
All these days, we learn to carry stone
Then bleed out again
Then bleed out

We bury our names in love
We bury our names in love

Jagged Reef

She left a thread beneath the dying light
A word half-said, then swallowed by the night
You lit a smoke but never struck a flame
And wore her leaving like a borrowed name

You said her silence felt like choice
But heard the truth behind her voice

I still chase that stubborn light
Flickering beneath the fight
Even if it never stays
I trace its shape across the haze

I still chase that stubborn light
Even when it blinds my sight
What you lose, you learn to find
Where love once burned, it leaves a sign

You drew her laugh into your notebook’s spine
And underlined the parts that made it rhyme
But pages tear in different ways
Some fold in half, some drift away

She wasn’t yours to hold or keep
But she still walks inside your sleep

I still chase that stubborn light
Glowing soft, but never right
Even if it breaks me clean
I follow what was never seen

I still chase that stubborn light
Flickering beyond the night
Even if it fades too soon
It pulls the tide like haunted moons

The heart will build what time erodes
A quiet room with locked-up oaths
I saw you burn your final thread
And light a lamp beside your bed

I still chase that stubborn light
Hiding in the things you write
Even if it slips the frame
I love what doesn’t take a name

I still chase that stubborn light
Even when it leaves no sign
It never stayed, but never strayed—
And still it shines
Still it shines

Stubborn Light

Flint in the feed, now the wires are clean
Blood's just a rumor in the mezzanine
Click-click hymn in a bang-bang dream
The leveller comes without a name

He’s all safety off and Sunday best
Chalk lines tangled in a bulletproof vest
Lipstick smear on a broadcast test
No prayers, just pre-set regrets

Leveller, leveller — draw the line
He don’t preach, he just aligns
Bang-bang reason, bang-bang grace
Same old gods in a pad-lock case

He sweeps the malls, he sighs through screens
Prints his gospel in AR beams
You won’t feel the body, just the seams
Unravel slow in machine-gun dreams

You thought you’d see him coming —
But he’s post-time, pre-cry, un-running
The kind of truth you don’t detect
Until your angles disconnect

He’s the prayer without the voice
The war declared without a choice
A blur between the fall and fact
A quiet click where worlds contract

And if you breathe, and if you shake
And if you reach — it’s still too late
Because he’s not here to mend or end —
He takes what no one can defend

Leveller, leveller — draw the line
He don’t preach, he just aligns
Bang-bang reason, bang-bang grace
Same old gods in a pad-lock case

Leveller, leveller — draw the line
He don’t preach, he just aligns
Bang-bang reason, bang-bang grace
Same old gods in a pad-lock case

He levels love, he levels luck
Leaves a silence sharp as rust
And when they ask you where he stood...
You’ll say "where anyone could."

Leveller

The dirt’s kicked up where the fight begins,  
The air hangs heavy with the weight of sins.  
The crowd leans back, safe in their place,  
But he stands alone, steady in grace.  

The blows land hard, the blood runs deep,  
But he’s here for more than just talk is cheap.  
It ain’t about glory, it ain’t about fame,  
It’s about showing up and playing the game.  

He’s the man in the arena, where the strong hearts go,  
Through the fire and the shadows, where the real truth shows.  
Win or lose, it’s the trying that stays,  
The fight’s in his blood, and it won’t go away.  

The ones who judge don’t feel the sting,  
They never risk anything.  
But he’s known failure and the weight it bears,  
Still he fights like hell, ‘cause he knows it’s fair.  

It’s not for the watchers, not for the safe,  
It’s for the fighters who hold their place.  
With dirt in his hands and grit in his soul,  
He knows the cost of chasing the goal.  

He’s the man in the arena, where the strong hearts go,  
Through the fire and the shadows, where the real truth shows.  
Win or lose, it’s the trying that stays,  
The fight’s in his blood, and it won’t go away.  

You don’t taste life if you don’t take a chance,  
There’s no reward for sitting the dance.  
So here’s to the ones who know the fall,  
But rise again, no matter the call.  

He’s the man in the arena, where the strong hearts go,  
Through the fire and the shadows, where the real truth shows.  
Win or lose, it’s the trying that stays,  
The fight’s in his blood, and it won’t go away.  

So let the world talk, let them throw stones,  
He’ll stand tall, even when he’s alone.  
For the fight ain’t easy, but it’s the only way,  
To live life fully, come what may.

The Man In The Arena

Based on the poem "Boots" by Rudyard Kipling 

Boots

We're foot—slog—slog—slog—sloggin' over Africa —
Foot—foot—foot—foot—sloggin' over Africa —
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again!)
                There's no discharge in the war!

Seven—six—eleven—five—nine-an'-twenty mile to-day —
Four—eleven—seventeen—thirty-two the day before —
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again!)
                There's no discharge in the war!

Don't—don't—don't—don't—look at what's in front of you.
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again);
Men—men—men—men—men go mad with watchin' em,
                An' there's no discharge in the war!

Try—try—try—try—to think o' something different —
Oh—my—God—keep—me from goin' lunatic!
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again!)
                There's no discharge in the war!

Count—count—count—count—the bullets in the bandoliers.
If—your—eyes—drop—they will get atop o' you!
(Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again) —
                There's no discharge in the war!

We—can—stick—out—'unger, thirst, an' weariness,
But—not—not—not—not the chronic sight of 'em —
Boot—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again,
                An' there's no discharge in the war!

'Taint—so—bad—by—day because o' company,
But night—brings—long—strings—o' forty thousand million
Boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again.
                There's no discharge in the war!

I—'ave—marched—six—weeks in 'Ell an' certify
It—is—not—fire—devils, dark, or anything,
But boots—boots—boots—boots—movin' up an' down again,
                An' there's no discharge in the war!

Boots (No Discharge In The War)

Verf my net met 'n skewe kwas.
Skakeer my met verf wat af was.
En skryf my oop, maar maak die boek weer toe.
Byt my stuk-stuk af, net om my te proe.

Breek oop my bene, suig uit my murg.
Klem my aan my keel, maar nie om my te wurg.
Skep jou eie doenings, maar kul nie die kuns.
Doen dit met my woorde, want my woorde is in jou guns.
My woorde is in jou guns.

Woorde is skrifte op die mure.
En woorde hou indeks van die ure.
Geen bedoelings of emosie nie,
want hartelose woorde kan nie troos nie.

Argiewe is woorde sonder prente —
opgeskryfde gedagtes van skrywers en denkers.
Dis spikkelgevoel vandag, wat in woorde lê.
Sal in woorde bly, altyd vir jou en wag.
Altyd vir jou en lag.

Woorde is skrifte op die mure.
En woorde hou indeks van die ure.
Geen bedoelings of emosie nie,
want hartelose woorde kan nie troos nie.

Dit kan nie troos nie.
Dit kan nie troos nie.

Woorde

Pyplyn

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