Skills, Gear, Guts

VERSE 1 We’re the kind that rides the broken lines, Boots in the dust, grit in our teeth. No holy light, no thunder in our hands, Just hard-won tricks we refuse to sheath. We patch it up, we scope it out, we kick the door, we take the fall, Laugh at the odds like they don’t count at all. PRE-CHORUS Yeah, we don’t need a crown of chrome, Or a halo welded to our bones, We’ve got the map in coffee stains, And a pocket full of “maybe” flames. CHORUS We’re skills, gear, guts in a mad-world rush, Cheap cigars and a midnight hush. No biggest guns, no clean-eyed saints, Just experience and the luck we paint. Side by side with giants, we don’t flinch, we don’t run, We don’t need the spotlight to get it done. VERSE 2 Merc with the contract, eyes like glass, Adventurer grinning like “watch me” dared. Rogue with a secret and a second name, Scholar carrying truth like contraband prayer. City shadows teach you how to breathe, Operators make the dead tech sing, Rogue Scholars keep the forbidden page From turning into ash and myth and sting. PRE-CHORUS We’re the open-ended, stitch-it-together crew, Build-a-legend out of scrap and nerve, When the world says “stay in your lane,” We swerve. CHORUS We’re skills, gear, guts in a mad-world rush, Cheap cigars and a midnight hush. No biggest guns, no clean-eyed saints, Just experience and the luck we paint. Side by side with giants, we don’t flinch, we don’t run, We don’t need the spotlight to get it done. BRIDGE Say you’re “just” human, “just” clever, “just” quick, Say you’re “just” a name on a job gone sick. But I’ve seen “just” turn the tide, With a steady hand and a stubborn spine. We don’t glow, we don’t roar, we don’t claim we’re blessed, We just show up when the world needs less… mess. FINAL CHORUS Yeah, skills, gear, guts in a mad-world rush, Heart like a drum and a trigger-hush. No biggest guns, no clean-eyed saints, Just experience and the luck we paint. Equal footing, broken pavement, call it what you want, We don’t need the spotlight… we are the front.