Rot

Intro (spoken / feedback swell):

Days blur together—

No clock, no purpose, no spine.

Verse 1:

Alarm clock dead, sunlight rots through the blinds

Same stain on the ceiling, same war in her mind

Resume buried under empty cans

Dreams folded up like shaking hands

She says “tomorrow” like it means something

But tomorrow’s just yesterday’s twin

Heartbeat syncing with the glow of a screen

Another hour swallowed by the in-between

Pre-Chorus:

Comfort’s a coffin with cushions and springs

Soft place to die, no pull-string

The room’s closing in, walls padded with shame

If this is living, say my fucking name

Chorus:

Bed rot—wake up, fall back down

Chair rot—trapped in a dead-end town

Couch rot—no fire, no fight

Miranda’s wasting every ounce of life

Verse 2:

Dust collects where ambition slept

Friends stopped calling, promises kept—

In silence

The job’s gone cold, the days hit repeat

Bones sink deeper into cheap upholstery

Every excuse stitched into the seams

“I’m just tired” doesn’t mean what it means

The weight of nothing pins her in place

A slow-motion erasing of a face

Pre-Chorus:

Comfort’s a coffin with cushions and springs

Soft place to die, no pull-string

The room’s closing in, walls padded with shame

If this is living, say my fucking name

Chorus:

Bed rot—wake up, fall back down

Chair rot—trapped in a dead-end town

Couch rot—no fire, no fight

Miranda’s wasting every ounce of life

Breakdown (callout-style):

GET—UP

OR—GET—USED—TO—DECAY

Foam-filled tombs

Fabric lies

You’re not resting—

You’re waiting to die

Bridge (half-time, eerie):

There’s a heartbeat under all that dust

Still twitching, still begging for rust

But comfort sings its siren song

Stay numb, stay quiet, stay gone

Final Chorus (slower, heavier):

Bed rot—wake up, fall back down

Chair rot—trapped in a dead-end town

Couch rot—no fire, no fight

Miranda’s wasting every ounce of—

Outro (last hit):

Life.