(dark UK sad‑rap, high‑pitch hook, deep layered voices, metaphorical suicidal energy) ⸻ HOOK (high‑pitch, stretched, broken‑sounding) What’s it like to wake up… and be meee… Is it a cooold… and haaauuunted… fairy‑taaaale dreeeaaam? Every mornin’ I’m fallin’, I can’t hear my own screeeaam… Blue eyes flicker — st‑st‑stutter in the steam… I don’t wanna die… I just wanna feel alive again… ⸻ VERSE 1 — (deeper, darker, personal) What’s it like bein’ me? It’s this hollow routine. Wake up lost, feelin’ empty, stuck inside a bad dream. Wonderin’ if anyone sees what I’m really thinkin’ — Or if I’m drownin’ in shadows where nobody’s listenin’. It’s pain in my ribcage, cold in my spine, It’s anxiety crawlin’ like a parasite in my mind. It’s depression like a fog that never lets me see, And the voice in my skull keeps whisperin’ “suicidal tendencies…” (metaphorically) I feel guilt, feel shame, feel punished by fate, Like I opened Pandora’s box and invited all this hate. Trauma from the west end, diggin’ claws in my brain, Sometimes the memories hit so hard I shake with shame. James Patterson — that’s the name on the page, But I feel like a ghost, like I ain’t lived my own age. Army boots, police academy, tryin’ to stand tall, But inside? I’m collapsin’ — barely holdin’ it at all. ⸻ CHORUS (haunting, layered voices) What’s it like to be me? It’s a cold broken echo in a heart that bleeds. It’s metaphorical suicidal storms — circlin’ my mind, It’s a life full of battles that I fight blind. It’s the shake… the ache… the breath I can’t breathe… Yeah… that’s what it’s like to be me. ⸻ VERSE 2 — (even darker, deeper metaphor) Some days I’m steady, some hours I cope, But most nights I’m tight‑ropin’ over the end of my hope. Anxietyyy rattlin’ — like chains on my chest, Depression whisperin’ secrets I ain’t ready to confess. I’m haunted by choices — the ones I didn’t take, The moments I missed, the ones that still ache. Feel like life robbed me, left me half‑alive, Like I’m drivin’ through darkness with no headlights. Blue‑eyed stare in the mirror — can’t recognise the man, Just a hollow silhouette who forgot his own plan. James Patterson on paper… but in my mind I’m undone, A soldier, a cop‑in‑training, but inside I’m none. I pretend I’m okay, pretend I ain’t breakin’, But my heartbeat feels like a house that’s earthquakin’. Nobody to talk to, it’s me and my fears, Stutterin’ through the pain, drownin’ in weak tears. It’s trauma buried deep like a landmine in my chest, And I’m walkin’ through a battlefield callin’ it “rest.” ⸻ OUTRO (soft, fading, trembling) What’s it like to be me? It’s a question that hurts more than it frees… But if you hear these words and feel the same screams — Just know you ain’t alone in the dark with your dreams… Yeah… that’s what it’s like… to be me.

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