The Body They Stole

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
Your cane taps the pavement like a metronome of want,
shoes too big, shuffling through the factory floor—
each mirror-neuron firing in the crowd watching you,
their motor cortex lighting up to match your stumble.
You've taught ten thousand faces how to feel
what your body already knows: hunger looks like grace.

[Chorus]
Your hands build the world inside the frame,
every gesture a synapse snapping alive,
you're the shape that teaches us to grieve and grin,
the walk that rewires how we see ourselves,
the silence that speaks louder than any voice.

[Verse 2]
Synaptic plasticity in your fingertips—
you've remapped the brain's expectation of what's funny,
what's true. The factory's mechanical rhythm becomes your rhythm,
your body the conductor of a thousand buried laughs.
Long-term potentiation: they will remember this.
Your slouch, your shuffle—permanent grooves in their memory now.

[Chorus]
Your hands build the world inside the frame,
every gesture a synapse snapping alive,
you're the shape that teaches us to grieve and grin,
the walk that rewires how we see ourselves,
the silence that speaks louder than any voice.

[Bridge]
In the mirror, you became what we needed—
axonal branching into every loneliness we've ever swallowed.
Your interoception perfect: you knew the exact weight of despair
before you made it dance. The cortical remapping starts here,
in this tiny room, with those oversized shoes,
and suddenly we all know how to survive.

[Chorus]
Your hands build the world inside the frame,
every gesture a synapse snapping alive,
you're the shape that teaches us to grieve and grin,
the walk that rewires how we see ourselves,
the silence that speaks louder than any voice.

[Outro]
The cane still taps. The shoes still shuffle.
Your hands still reach—and we reach back,
our neurons forever mapped to the shape of your small, enormous heart.