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MJ 써니사이드 , 반하나 - 한잔 , 우리 사랑한 시간 x 1.2

이기찬 - 미인

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[Lyrics]
You signed the papers, I signed nothing,
one-way ticket into suffering.
A thought experiment with living skin,
you rolled the dice, I got thrown in.

No informed consent, no “yes,” no “no,”
no box to tick before I grow.
You call it “life,” you call it “blessed,”
but did you ever run the stress test?

risk is high and choice is none,
then basic ethics says “don’t spawn.”
It’s simple math, a brutal proof:
if you can’t catch me, don’t push me off the roof.


Nobody asked to be here,
we just woke up mid-fall.
You call it gift, I call it
one-sided protocol.

If you won’t burn yourself for me,
why did you light this storm?
If love is not your full-time job,
maybe I should’ve never been born.



You say “it’s private, it’s their child,”
then blame the wreckage when life runs wild.
High-risk parents left alone,
thin-walled hearts in a collapsing home.

Teenage mother, bruised and scared,
DV father, no one cares.
Doctors whisper “complication,”
state says “budget limitation.”

We have the data, charts, reports,
the long-term cost in every court.
Still you preach “go forth, reproduce,”
then cut the funding, hang the noose.

birth’s a choice that can’t undo,
then we all signed that contract too.
A child is not just “theirs” to keep,
it’s ours to guard when they can’t sleep.


You push them off the deep end,
call drowning “family norm.”
You clap for every newborn,
ignore the coming storm.

You won’t share the weight you praise,
won’t hold the line they form.
If we won’t raise what we create,
maybe we should’ve never been born.



So if you dare to call me “child,”
don’t be gentle in your vows.
Make them fierce and make them wild,
swear you’ll break before you’ll break me down.

Give up sleep and cheap ambitions,
trade your freedom, change your plans.
Stand between me and the fire,
bare-faced, with your shaking hands.

And when you can’t, then let the town,
the schools, the streets, the whole world drown
my nightmares in a softer sound—
don’t leave one high-risk soul alone to hit the ground.


Because some nights, against all odds,
a parent kneels before the gods,
not for heaven, not for pay,
just to keep my dark away.

Hands that shook but never dropped me,
eyes half-dead but still they watched me,
bodies used as fragile shields,
bleeding on suburban fields.

Call it instinct, call it genes,
call it anything you need—
to me it’s just a quiet scene
where love outpaces every greed


So here’s my heresy, my song:
yes, to give me life was wrong
unless you chose, with ruthless grace,
to make my joy your dwelling place.

If you won’t burn yourself for me,
don’t ever strike that spark.
If we won’t raise each other’s young,
we’re breeding children for the dark.

But when a parent, day by day,
throws their whole small life into the storm,
and when a weary world leans in
to help that fragile love stay warm—

Then maybe, in that borrowed light,
this cursed experiment’s reborn.
For love that gives itself like that,
I’m glad I was ever born.


So either hold me with that madness,
or leave the future still unborn.
If birth’s the most forbidden act,
then love’s the only way it’s ever
forgiven,
and adorned.

O-SIN

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