[Intro] [Instrumentation: bass and closed hi-hat pulse like a sleepless locker-room clock] [Verse 1] The mirror cuts me at the eyes, A face reduced to equal sides. Mask-mark, bruise-mark, bitten cheek, A mouth that moves before I speak. My locker smells of soap and rain, Two aspirin roll beside my name. The badge swings loose, its edges chipped— A little title on a clip. [Chorus] I am a badge without sleep, Pinned to a body running deep Into a debt it cannot pay, Into another borrowed day. I am a badge without sleep— A name the building gets to keep. [Verse 2] The printed statement waits inside, Its corners squared, its language mild. “Equipment functioned as designed.” “Clinical judgment was applied.” One signature and I go home. One signature and I’m alone. One signature restores the lie: No broken system, only night. [Chorus] I am a badge without sleep, Pinned to a body running deep Into a debt it cannot pay, Into another borrowed day. I am a badge without sleep— A name the building gets to keep. [Break] [Instrumentation: bass and closed hi-hat continue while the vocal becomes almost expressionless] Take off the badge. Leave the key. Let another version cover me. Sign the sheet. Close the file. Drive until the road forgets the mile. [Verse 3] I picture morning at my door, Shoes left crooked on the floor. A darkened room, the curtains drawn, A phone that rings and carries on. I picture never coming back, No coded lights, no plastic bags. Then Gabriel’s sister says again: “Was someone with him at the end?” [Bridge] My badge says Mara. That is all. Not martyr, angel, saint or wall. It does not make my limits less, Or turn neglect to holiness. [Second Bridge] I cannot save what should be shared. I cannot care for being cared. But if I sign what is not true, The lie will wear my name there too. [Build-up] I rip the statement once across. Then twice through “safe” and “cause.” The paper falls like narrow snow. The three-note organ sounds below. [Final Chorus] I am a badge without sleep, But not a seal the ward can keep. My name is mine to write or save, Not theirs to fasten to a grave. I am a badge without sleep— I bend, I break, I still can speak. [Outro] [Instrumentation: bass riff stops as Mara removes the badge] I hold the clip inside my hand. Then pin it back. Then choose to stand.