I set the board low
Where the old thoughts breathe
Black squares open
Underneath my teeth
You move first
With a borrowed grin
I move last
Where the dark begins
You bring the old rage
Like a polished piece
You call it power
You call it peace
I lose one pawn
But I keep my eyes
You take the center
I take the lies
For one cold beat, I let you win
You sit above me, crown in fist
Then I castle underneath your skin
And turn your triumph into this
No chorus yet
No easy gate
Just your breath counting down
Four, three, two, wait
You dress my anger
In a noble coat
You place my hunger
Where the knives can vote
I watch your bishop
Slide through the room
I let your shadow
Think it owns the gloom
Now every black square
Knows your name
Every white square
Keeps its shame
You lean forward
Sure of the kill
But I have learned
How to sit still
For one cold beat, I let you win
You sit above me, crown in fist
Then I castle underneath your skin
And turn your triumph into this
No chorus yet
No easy gate
Just your breath counting down
Four, three, two, wait
Your king has nowhere
Your mouth goes still
The board remembers
What the hands conceal
I do not shout
I do not chase
I let the silence
Take your place
For one cold beat, I let you win
You sit above me, crown in fist
Then I castle underneath your skin
And turn your triumph into this
No chorus yet
No easy gate
Just your breath counting down
Four, three, two, wait
I clear the board slow
Where the old thoughts cease
One black piece left
And it is not me