Nerves of Glass

Lyrics

[Intro]
In the dim lab light, Hans, your hands tremble.

[Verse 1]
McGill University, Montreal, winter of 1936.
You hold the glass slide up to the microscope,
its thin edge catching the fluorescent hum.
Formaldehyde bites the air, sharp at 3 a.m.,
while the stopwatch ticks, relentless,
measuring the scars on rat adrenals.
Every drop, every clumsy fumble,
leaves an indelible mark, you said.
The organism pays for survival by aging a little.

[Chorus]
Nerves of glass, my fragile network,
under your lens, I see the cracks forming.
Cold room at 10 degrees, hands chilled,
writing notes that echo my breaking point.
Don't shatter now, hold the pulse.

[Verse 2]
That accidental discovery, dropping the rats,
not in planned torment but mishandled grip.
Physiological echoes in their tiny frames,
mirroring this human weave of mine.
The lab assistants, unnamed in your papers,
witness the toll, the quiet breakdowns.
Bitter coffee mingles with sterile chill,
eyepiece pressing against your brow.

[Chorus]
Nerves of glass, transparent and thin,
under stress, we bend until we snap.
Hans Selye, your syndrome whispers,
general adaptation, the cost of enduring.
Hold me gently, in this quiet hour.

[Bridge]
The hourglass leaks sand into the void,
but here, on this slide, resilience glimmers.
Not unbreakable, but pieced back with gold.
From McGill's archives, your voice rises:
every scar a story, every stress a step.

[Outro]
Nerves of glass, we survive the drop.
In the lab's hush, we mend.