[Verse] Concrete bones under morning light, faded flags still stand so tight. I hear the drum like a heartbeat slow, pounding through the town I know. Sidewalk cracks where the dreams used to run, but the roots still hum beneath the sun. A name on a wall, a face in the crowd, watching me walk through the old town’s shroud. [Pre-Chorus] And the sky says, “You left, but you’re still here,” echoes in the streets, year after year. Every step I take, the past begins to sway— this is where I’m from, and this is my way. [Chorus] Marchin’ down the block with the snare in my chest, every beat’s a memory I can’t forget. The colors burn, but the rhythm stays true, this town’s my prayer, this home’s my crew. Oh, the march don’t end, it’s in the air, I carry it all—every scar, every prayer. Marchin’ down the block with the snare in my chest, I’m home again, and it’s all I’ve ever been. [Verse] Schoolyard ghosts in chalk and dust, lunchtime laughter still echoes, just trust. The diner still lights up at dusk, with a waitress who knows me from the first. I pass the oak where the letters were carved, half-erased love, but it still works. No grand return, just a quiet grace— this rhythm in my blood, this sacred place. [Pre-Chorus] And the sky says, “You left, but you’re still here,” echoes in the streets, year after year. Every step I take, the past begins to sway— this is where I’m from, and this is my way. [Chorus] Marchin’ down the block with the snare in my chest, every beat’s a memory I can’t forget. The colors burn, but the rhythm stays true, this town’s my prayer, this home’s my crew. Oh, the march don’t end, it’s in the air, I carry it all—every scar, every prayer. Marchin’ down the block with the snare in my chest, I’m home again, and it’s all I’ve ever been. [Bridge] No banners, no speeches, no spotlight’s glare— just the steady beat in the air. I don’t need to prove, I don’t need to run, just this pulse, this thread, this sun. The music is mine, the rhythm is known— I’m not returning… I’ve always been home. [Chorus] Marchin’ down the block with the snare in my chest, every beat’s a memory I can’t forget. The colors burn, but the rhythm stays true, this town’s my prayer, this home’s my crew. Oh, the march don’t end, it’s in the air, I carry it all—every scar, every prayer. Marchin’ down the block with the snare in my chest, I’m home again, and it’s all I’ve ever been. [Outro] Snare in my chest… snare in my chest… snare in my chest… still here.