[Intro] [Hammered piano and five-beat guitar strikes leave abrupt gaps of silence.] They called me kind when kindness served. They called me calm when rage stayed curved. Now every smile appears rehearsed. I taste the answer first and worst. [Verse 1] I know who skipped the warning mail. I know who watched the rollback fail. I know who signed, then left the call Before the numbers hit the wall. They pass my desk with careful eyes, Their morning greetings wrapped in lies. I answer clean, I answer brief, Then picture them beneath the grief. [Pre-Chorus] I hate the laugh beside the door. I hate the phrase, “We’ve learned before.” I hate the tone that asks me still To be the one who bends his will. [Chorus] Good soul, bad blood—what have I become? A patient hand with a loaded tongue. Good soul, bad blood under office white, Wanting the right to watch them carry What I carried alone— Good soul, bad blood, flesh into stone. [Verse 2] A message asks if I can share My “lessons learned” with those who were there. I write, “Of course,” then close the thread And speak the answer in my head: You learned that I will take the strain. You learned that I will hide the name. You learned that if the pressure grew, The helpful fool would carry you. [Choir] Say it. Name them. Cut the cord. Make them answer Word for word. [Chorus] Good soul, bad blood—what have I become? A patient hand with a loaded tongue. Good soul, bad blood under office white, Wanting the right to watch them carry What I carried alone— Good soul, bad blood, flesh into stone. [Instrumental Break] [Dissonant viola runs and angular guitar fragments fight over the mechanical five-beat pulse.] [Bridge] What if the system did not make This bitter wish I cannot shake? What if it found the buried room Where decent hands can welcome doom? [Breakdown] I want the build to fail again. I want the call at half past ten. I want their voices stripped of gloss. I want them finally taught the cost. [Silence] Then I hear what I have said. [Final Chorus] Good soul, bad blood—look at what I’ve done: I made their fear my private sun. Good soul, bad blood under warning light, I cannot call this hunger right. If I become what I condemn, The system wins through me, not them. [Outro] He left the room before he spoke. The corridor lights divided his coat. Behind him someone called his name. He did not turn. He felt no shame.