[Intro][The singer caps the marker. Bass drum and floor tom start a march; the audience claps between the beats.]

[Spoken Word: Lead Vocal]

Every name on that wall started small.

[Verse 1]

You praise the sold-out stadium, screens forty feet,
Truck lights in convoy, reserved corporate seats.
You quote the gross revenue, count every stream,
Then pull out the staircase beneath the machine.
Before every wristband and backstage parade,
Someone hauled an amp through the wihnd and the rain.

[Pre-Chorus]

No spotlight arrives already aligned.
No singer steps up already in time.
The first note wobbles; the back wall is near.
You learn how to stand when the wrong chord is clear.

[Chorus]

Nobody starts in an arena.
You start with a borrowed leed,
A sweating ceiling, a monitor squealing,
And one small room that lets you breathe.
Nobody starts in an arena.
Somebody opens a room.

[Verse 2]

The label says talent will rise on its own,
As if songs arrive finished in bedrooms alone.
A screen cannot teach you to rescue a line
When the snare skin splits at a quarter to nine.
You learn from twelve people with arms crossed tight,
And one who steps forward and sings it back right.

[Pre-Chorus]

No chorus arrives already refined.
No drummer is born knowing where to leave time.
The first show stumbles; the back wall is near.
You learn how to listen when one clap is clear.

[Chorus]

Nobody starts in an arena.
You start with a borrowed leed,
A sweating ceiling, a monitor squealing,
And one small room that lets you breathe.
Nobody starts in an arena.
Somebody opens a room.

[Breakdown][Guitars stop. Drums and the actual room continue.]

[Lead / Audience]

Who taught the singer? / The room!
Who caught the drummer? / The room!
Who held the first crowd? / The room!
Who carried the risk? / The room!

[Verse 3]

The famous send statements when closure is near,
A photograph, one polished sentence, sincere.
But praise will not service a loan on its own,
Or keep the red curtain from being torn down.
Put one arena ticket back into this floor;
Book one young band through one rain-marked door.

[Bridge]

Do not call the venue a step you once used,
Then kick it away when your own boots are new.
The arena is visible, polished and wide;
The little red curtain is where nerve gets tried.

[Final Chorus]

Nobody starts in an arena.
You start with a borrowed leed,
A sweating ceiling, a monitor squealing,
And one small room that lets you breathe.
Nobody starts in an arena.
Somebody keeps open a room.

[Audience Refrain][The band drops out; the crowd repeats the title in the natural room acoustic.]

Nobody starts in an arena.
Nobody starts in an arena.

[Outro][The floor tom slows. One clean guitar note leads directly into track eleven.]