[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.
