My mind runs hot, my mouth runs fast, I see the cracks before they start to glass. I’m three steps ahead, can’t hit the brake, sometimes I sprint till my lungs start to shake. I carry weight I don’t show on my face, smile in the room, but I live in the chase. Hard on myself, yeah, I know that’s true— but pressure makes diamonds, I’m proof. And when I spiral, I don’t disappear, I look my shadow dead in the mirror. I used to run, I used to numb— now I stay when it gets rough. ’Cause I’m not done, not done, not done, I don’t fold when the dark comes. I’m not done, not done, not done, I rise up—yeah, I become. I’m not perfect, I’m real, that’s enough, I’ve been tested, I’m still here—what’s up? Say it loud when it hits too hard: I’m not done—I’m just getting started. Discipline slips like sand through my hands, doubt talks slick like it knows my plans. Old patterns knock like “let me back in,” and I hate that they still know where I’ve been. But I’m done looking away from the pain, I name it, I face it, I break the chain. If there’s a monster in me, I’ll take the wheel— turn that fire into something real. Yeah I’m frustrated, but that’s the sign— there’s more in me, and it wants daylight. I don’t need luck, I don’t need grace, I need one more step at my pace. ’Cause I’m not done, not done, not done, I don’t fold when the dark comes. I’m not done, not done, not done, I rise up—yeah, I become. I’m not perfect, I’m real, that’s enough, I’ve been tested, I’m still here—what’s up? Say it loud when it hits too hard: I’m not done—I’m just getting started. My wife is my calm when my head turns loud, she reads my eyes through the noise and the crowd. She holds up the truth when I lose my view— she’s the steady in what I do. And my son… that’s my whole damn why. When I hold him, the world goes quiet. Everything stops, everything clears— I don’t fear tomorrow when he’s right here. I’m not done, not done, not done, I don’t fold when the dark comes. I’m not done, not done, not done, I rise up—yeah, I become. For my family, for the man I’ll be, for the days I couldn’t believe in me— if the road gets steep, I’ll go that far: I’m not done—I’m just getting started.