(Verse 1)

Some days I wake up thinking “maybe I’m not done,”

next day I can’t remember why the fuck I even begun.

Hope kicks the door in, resignation shuts it fast,

one says “move forward,” the other drags me to the past.

I’m sick of almosts, sick of “wait and see,”

sick of living like potential’s all I’ll ever fucking be.

I’m not depressed enough to quit this shit for good,

but not hopeful enough to believe that I could.

(Pre-Chorus)

I light a spark, then stomp it out myself,

tell me why the fuck I keep doing this hell.

If hope’s a drug, then it comes with a crash,

and resignation’s the bastard that sweeps up the ash.

(Chorus)

I’m stuck between hope and giving up,

too angry to quit, too tired to trust.

I don’t fall — I just fucking stall,

watch life move fast while I stand and rot.

Not brave, not broken, just stuck in between,

half of me screams, half of me wants to sleep.

(Verse 2)

They say “be positive,” yeah piss off with that,

I tried optimism — it stabbed me in the back.

Every time I believed, I paid the price,

now resignation feels safer than rolling the dice.

I don’t dream big, I don’t dream small,

I just replay the same shit and call it control.

I don’t want death, don’t want peace,

I want this fucking pressure to finally release.

(Pre-Chorus)

Hope keeps whispering “one more try,”

resignation laughs and says “you know why.”

I’m exhausted from choosing, exhausted from doubt,

from being half-in and halfway the fuck out.

(Bridge — ANDERS, ZYNISCH, REALITÄT)

(Beat minimal, kalt)

Bills don’t care about hope.

Time doesn’t give a shit about healing.

Nobody pauses their life

because you’re undecided.

(Beat slams back in)

So yeah — I’m stuck.

And the world keeps fucking moving.

(Chorus)

I’m stuck between hope and giving up,

between “fuck it” and “get back up.”

I don’t collapse, I don’t rise,

I just survive in this in-between lie.

Too tired to fight, too pissed to quit,

if this is living, it’s a fucking split.

(Verse 3)

Maybe hope’s not dead, just badly bruised,

maybe resignation’s just fear in a suit.

But knowing that doesn’t change the weight,

doesn’t make decisions any less fucking late.

I’m not asking for salvation or signs,

I’m asking why it feels illegal to try.

If this limbo’s a test, it’s cruel as hell —

no win condition, no fail bell.

(Final Chorus)

I’m stuck between hope and resignation,

between burning out and preservation.

If I move, I risk breaking apart,

if I stay, I slowly fucking rot.

But hear this clear — I’m not done yet,

I’m just standing in the mess.

And maybe surviving this space

is the angriest form of resistance.

(Outro)

I haven’t quit.

I just haven’t forgiven life

for what it’s done so far.