Happy, Probably (Sisyphus)

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Your hands know the weight before they grip,
synaptic pathways firing down your arms,
each muscle memory a groove worn deep—
the stone ascending, always ascending,
your shoulders broad enough to hold
what lesser frames would splinter under.
You grin at the summit. You always grin.

[Chorus]
Push the stone up, up the incline,
watch your cortex map the slope,
every footfall rewires the path you've known,
and you're alive in ways that others won't.
The mountain burns beneath your soles,
and you burn brighter.

[Verse 2]
Your hippocampus doesn't mourn the fall—
it celebrates: long-term potentiation blooming,
synaptic strength renewed with each descent,
each roll of stone a fresh beginning,
your axons branching toward the next ascent.
The predictive coding in your cerebellum
already knows tomorrow's slope,
and still you choose the stone,
still you choose the way up.

[Chorus]
Push the stone up, up the incline,
watch your cortex map the slope,
every footfall rewires the path you've known,
and you're alive in ways that others won't.
The mountain burns beneath your soles,
and you burn brighter.

[Bridge]
Your mirror neurons fire in rhythm,
neurogenesis happening in the dark,
new cells blooming in the work itself—
not despite the repetition,
because of it.
The weight becomes your conversation,
stone and sinew speaking truth.

[Chorus]
Push the stone up, up the incline,
watch your cortex map the slope,
every footfall rewires the path you've known,
and you're alive in ways that others won't.
The mountain burns beneath your soles,
and you burn brighter.

[Outro]
At the summit, you don't weep.
You touch the stone like it's a lover's face,
then turn to descend, already laughing,
already reaching for the weight again.

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**WORD COUNT: 287 words** ✓