Intro (spoken, low)
Room’s quiet…
but my head’s already arguing.
No witnesses this time —
just me and the truth.
Verse 1
I wake up with a case against myself,
cross-examine every move for help.
Every choice I made feels suspicious now,
like I gotta explain how I got here somehow.
I don’t trust my instincts, I double back,
second-guess good moments till they crack.
Even peace feels like a setup scene,
waiting for the part where it turns on me.
I carry blame like it proves I care,
wear it heavy like it keeps me aware.
If I stay hard on myself, maybe I won’t fall —
that’s the lie I keep telling when I build these walls.
I replay words I should’ve never said,
then punish myself like it fixes it.
I know better, but I don’t feel free —
knowing the truth don’t rescue me.
I look strong when I’m standing still,
but inside I’m negotiating my will.
Trying to figure out if I’m broken or just tired —
either way, I’m running out of fire.
Hook
No alibi when it’s me vs. me,
no excuses left, no referee.
I say “I’m fine,” but it don’t convince —
I hear the doubt in my own defense.
If I fall back, it’s my own design,
I build the trap, then cross the line.
No alibi, no one to blame —
just me in the mirror saying my name.
Verse 2
I don’t need enemies, I internalize,
turn every flaw into a lifetime trial.
I overthink until the good feels fake,
then wonder why my chest still aches.
People say “relax,” like it’s a switch,
like I haven’t tried everything that exists.
They don’t know the noise I’m under oath to hear,
every thought sworn in as sincere.
I hold myself to impossible terms,
call it growth while I burn and burn.
If I’m not perfect, I feel behind —
like my worth’s on a countdown timer.
I want peace, but I interrogate calm,
asking “how long till this goes wrong?”
I don’t celebrate, I brace for impact,
even good news gets treated like a trap.
Still, I show up when I wanna fold,
not ‘cause I’m brave — I just don’t know
how to let go of the pressure I keep,
like guilt’s the only thing anchoring me.
Bridge (quiet, honest)
If I go quiet, I’m not hiding out —
I’m just tired of hearing myself shout.
No verdict yet, no closure scene —
just sitting with who I’ve been.
Final Hook
No alibi when it’s me vs. me,
no backup plan, no jury.
I say “I’m good,” but it’s hard to say
when I question myself this way.
Maybe one day I’ll ease my grip,
stop treating myself like a counterfeit.
Till then I stand, no disguise —
no alibi…
just trying to survive.
Outro (spoken, steady)
Same mind… same voice…
but I stayed tonight.
That’s not victory —
but it’s real
Grayscale253