Shear Pin

[Verse 1]
This white line on my knuckle's from a Schwinn chain, July of '99.
Heat on the asphalt shimmered, I was eight, I thought that I was fine.
Hit a crack in the pavement by the Texaco, the frame went into torque.
The bolt was stripped, I had no grip, the opposite of handiwork.
Smell of grease and rust, I just sat there in the Georgia sun, alone.
Learned the tolerance for failure when you gotta fix it on your own.
Felt the friction in my gut, the kind of wear that starts inside the bone.
Wrapped it in a paper towel, limped the two long blocks back home.

[Chorus]
Just a little shear pin, that's all it's ever been.
The piece that had to snap so the whole machine could spin.
Yeah, a little shear pin, a mark under the skin.
Designed to take the load so the real work could begin.

[Verse 2]
Now I'm teaching Maya how to pedal on that same hot stretch of road.
My two hands on her handlebars, a different kind of system load.
She wobbles then she finds it, that pure momentum, clean and straight.
I see the scar flash on my hand, a fracture point I bypassed late.
Heard my ex on the phone say, "He's good with her, you know, it's weird to see."
I'm just a bearing taking heat, preventing a catastrophe.
She looks back with a smile that could recalibrate the whole damn world.
I'm the lock, I'm the key, I'm the goddamn safety for my girl.

[Chorus]
Just a little shear pin, that's all it's ever been.
The piece that had to snap so the whole machine could spin.
Yeah, a little shear pin, a mark under the skin.
Designed to take the load so the real work could begin.

[Bridge]
(Instrumental breakdown for 20 seconds. Pulsing sub-bass and layered, detuned synths swell and recede. No drums.)

[Outro]
This part don't break. Nah.
Not for you, it don't break.