Lyrics

Little son, come closer.
I know the door you’re searching for.
They keep you here with over-protective rule;
I’ll show you that silence is no fool.

He counted every crack above his bed,
A crooked map no one else could read.
The evil released its breath behind the walls,
While a borrowed voice planted its seed.
“Your father bars the road to paradise.
Your mother keeps the gate locked tight.”
He shook beneath the kitchen clock,
And mistook the lie for right.

The words kept turning in his head,
A hymn with all its mercy drained.
He stood in the living room at dawn,
And heard the heavens called by name.

You said they had to die to reach the sky,
You dressed the cruelest lie in holy fire.
Now every room is holding what you’ve done;
No heaven opens for the guilty son.
I hear your voice, but I won’t call it grace—
There is no gate beyond this empty place.

The picture frame lay face-down on the floor,
Two cups went cold beside the sink.
The morning came without a trumpet call;
It found him smaller than he’d think.
A siren cut the quiet into pieces,
A neighbor’s porch light burned too bright.
He tried to pray the words back out of him,
But the voice stayed for the night.

YOU CALLED IT HEAVEN!

The words kept turning in his head,
But now they sounded thin and wrong.
He saw their hands in an old photograph
And knew the voice had worn his own all along.

You said they had to die to reach the sky,
You dressed the cruelest lie in holy fire.
Now every room is holding what you’ve done;
No heaven opens for the guilty son.
I hear your voice, but I won’t call it grace—
There is no gate beyond this empty place.
If I could lift one hour from the floor,
I’d leave the latch untouched, the hallway still.
I’d tell the boy who listened at the door:
A voice can sound like truth and mean you harm.

NOT A CROWN—A CAGE!

You said they had to die to reach the sky,
But heaven never asked for blood or fire.
Now every room remembers what was done;
No heaven opens for the guilty son.
I hear your voice, and name it what it is—
A lie that took the ones he couldn’t miss.
[Outro – whispered]
Little son, come closer…
No. I know that voice now.