[Verse 1]
She built her inner world the way some build a house —
Room by room, by feel, no blueprint, no blueprint's vows
The words arrived as pictures, arrived as melody,
A retrograde mind writing poems nobody else could see
She held the home together with her quiet, steady hand,
Pressed her love into the corners like mortar into sand

[PreChorus]
But the truest things she carried never quite fit in a frame,
And every time she gave herself away, she burned a little brighter all the same

[Chorus]
Janice, you were made of more than you were taught to claim,
A creative heart that set the whole fifth-floor sky aflame
Every story you have written in the dark deserves the day,
Janice, let the song your whole life's written finally play

[Verse 2]
She doesn't fall in love the way the impatient fall —
She lays each brick of trust before she opens up the hall
Her devotion isn't fireworks; it's the porch light always on,
The third draft of the letter kept, long after doubt is gone
She felt emotionally different, thought in metaphor and sign,
But what others called too much was just a rare and perfect mind

[PreChorus]
She's been torn between the urge to run and the need to hold the door,
Between the self she built for everyone and the one that wanted more

[Chorus]
Janice, every door you kept was one worth keeping open wide,
Every careful measured act of love was fury deep inside
You don't need to be smaller than the room that you were given,
Janice, all the depth you carry is precisely what you're living

[Verse 3]
There's a solar fire coming for the things that kept her still,
An eclipse that cracks the old frame on the windowsill
She's the one who reads the room before she reads her own,
Who forgot that the first house she was meant to tend was home —
Not the four-walled kind, but the one she is inside,
The one she's been rebuilding every time she stayed and tried

[PreChorus]
The moment's rising now, not asking her permission or her fear,
Everything she thought she'd lost is pulling into sharp and blazing clear

[Chorus]
Janice, step into the open space the old eclipse reveals,
The power that you thought was someone else's — that is yours to wield
You're the dream and the architect, the vision and the ground,
Janice, this is where your own voice finally lets itself be found

[Bridge]
She wrote herself in margins while she filled the empty page for everyone in need,
She answered every question but the one about what she believed
Now the margins aren't enough — she's ready for the centerline,
Every word she saved for others now belongs to her design

[Outro]
Janice, this is where the story turns and calls your name out loud,
Every quiet act of making something beautiful out of doubt —
She always had the answer; she just needed someone to say:
The song was always hers, and she can play it any way