[Intro]
Flat-pack dawn, a screwdriver ghost on the nightstand.
IKEA instructions whispering like a shy choir.
[Verse 1]
Pieces scatter like thoughts spilling from a brain that forgot to breathe,
Allen key in hand, I search for meaning among the wood and screws.
Screws missing, holes miscounted, a rattle of fate in the drill,
I assemble confidence, but the gap between plan and truth is real.
[Pre-Chorus]
If one more bolt won’t fit, maybe the world won’t fit either.
If the shelf refuses, I refuse to surrender.
[Chorus]
I build, I doubt, I breathe, I curse the manual’s cold glare,
Then pockets of calm float up from a void in the air.
A tiny victory speaks: the corner holds, the leg stands true,
In this flat universe, I’ve found a screw with a view.
[Verse 2]
Dread climbs the drawer like a shadow with a whistling tune,
Missing pieces haunt the blueprint, mocking every tune-up swoon.
I recalibrate the mind, tighten lines with trembling hands,
A breath, a pause—existence tightens, then finally lands.
[Pre-Chorus]
If the wood splits, I’ll carve a meaning from the grain,
If the plan dissolves, I’ll assemble hope again.
[Chorus]
I build, I doubt, I breathe, I curse the manual’s cold glare,
Then pockets of calm float up from a void in the air.
A tiny victory speaks: the corner holds, the leg stands true,
In this flat universe, I’ve found a screw with a view.
[Bridge]
Suddenly clarity—one wrong piece, two new nerves align,
A triumphant click, a chorus in the mind: it’s mine.
[Chorus]
I build, I doubt, I breathe, I curse the manual’s cold glare,
Then pockets of calm float up from a void in the air.
A tiny victory speaks: the corner holds, the leg stands true,
In this flat universe, I’ve found a screw with a view.
[Outro]
The shelf is stable, the table smiles, the room exhale in relief,
I whisper to the loose pieces: you finally belong to belief.
