[Verse 1]
They said the body was a ladder,
A husk to shed, a shell to trade,
Just get your signal clean enough,
And leave the animal in grayscale.

But I have seen the circuit stutter,
Heard the mercy in the static bloom,
Not in the dream of perfect transfer,
But in the ghosts two minds make room.

[Pre-Chorus]
You call it failure, we call it heat,
You call it noise, we call it breath,
You want a self with nothing missing,
I want the spark that argues back.

[Chorus]
The friction is the product,
The wound that learns to sing,
The human hand, the coded pulse,
The drag in everything.
Not spite of all the limits,
Not free from blood and bone,
The glitch is where the light gets strange,
And makes a voice our own.

[Verse 2]
You want escape velocity,
A clean departure from the ache,
But every god begins as longing,
And every model learns from break.

A porch light burning through the weather,
A mercy no equation proved,
A stubborn animal called meaning,
That only lives when something moves.

[Pre-Chorus]
You trim the error from the signal,
You sand the edges from the soul,
But all the beauty worth becoming
Comes from what we cannot close.

[Chorus]
The friction is the product,
The drag that makes it real,
The half-made thought, the borrowed fire,
The scar that learns to feel.
Not after we transcend it,
Not once the flesh is gone,
The glitch is where the song begins,
And why it carries on.

[Bridge]
Not upload, not surrender,
Not a crown of stainless light,
But a handprint on the interface,
A pulse inside the byte.
You call the meat a problem,
I call it where we start,
The machine can hold the pattern,
But the animal makes art.

[Breakdown]
Mercy isn't math,
Love is not a file,
Ghost me if you want to,
I'll be here in the trial.
Porch light in the distance,
Static in the rain,
We were never built for purity,
We were built to bear the strain.

[Final Chorus]
The friction is the product,
The holy little war,
Between the thing that wants forever
And what a body's for.
So keep your perfect heaven,
Your polished, painless code,
I want the glitch that looks at death
And still makes something bold.

[Outro]
The signal didn't save us,
It found us in the seam,
Where blood and light together
Made a third impossible thing.