I’m the strong one, I’m not nervous,
I’m as tough as the crust of the Earth is.
I move mountains, I move churches,
and I glow, ’cause I know what my worth is.
I don’t ask how hard the work is
got a rough indestructible surface.
Diamonds and platinum, I find ’em, I flatten ’em
I take what I’m handed, I break what’s demanded.
But under the surface,
I feel berserk as a tightrope walker in a three-ring circus.
Under the surface, was Hercules ever like, “Yo, I don’t wanna fight Cerberus?”
Under the surface, I’m pretty sure I’m worthless if I can’t be of service.
A flaw or a crack, the straw in the stack,
that breaks the camel’s back, what breaks the camel’s back?
It’s pressure like a drip, drip, drip
that’ll never stop, whoa.
Pressure that’ll tip, tip, tip
’til you just go pop, whoa, oh, oh.
”Give it to your sister, your sister’s older,
give her all the heavy things we can’t shoulder.”
Who am I if I can’t run with the ball?
If I fall to
pressure like a grip, grip, grip,
and it won’t let go, whoa.
Pressure like a tick, tick, tick
’til it’s ready to blow, whoa, oh, oh.
”Give it to your sister, your sister’s stronger,
see if she can hang on a little longer.”
Who am I if I can’t carry it all?
If I falter
Under the surface, I hide my nerves and it worsens, I worry something is gonna hurt us.
Under the surface, the ship doesn’t swerve,
has it heard how big the iceberg is?
Under the surface, I think about my purpose, can I somehow preserve this?
Line up the dominoes, a light wind blows,
you try to stop it tumbling, but on and on, it goes.
But wait, if I could shake
the crushing weight of expectations,
would that free some room up for joy or relaxation, or simple pleasure?
Instead, we measure this growing pressure
Keeps growing, keep going
Cause all… we… know… is…
Pressure like a drip, drip, drip
that’ll never stop, whoa.
Pressure that’ll tip, tip, tip
’til you just go pop, whoa, oh, oh.
”Give it to your sister, it doesn’t hurt, and
see if she can handle every family burden.”
Watch as she buckles and bends but never breaks, no mistakes.
Just pressure like a grip, grip, grip,
and it won’t let go, whoa.
Pressure like a tick, tick, tick
’til it’s ready to blow, whoa, oh, oh.
”Give it to your sister and never wonder
if the same pressure would’ve pulled you under.”
Who am I if I don’t have what it takes?
No cracks, no breaks,
no mistakes, no pressure.