[Intro- A lonely, felt-covered piano plays a minor-key melody. Low, tectonic sub-bass pulses underneath.]
I used to run from the serrated edges,
But now I’m sharpening the blade.
I’m curating the ache in the shadows,
In the temple that the silence made.
Come and see the architecture of the fallout,
The way the light spills through the cracks...
I’ve stopped trying to wipe the canvas clean,
There is no turning back.
[Interlude- Vocals are layered, harmony-heavy, and breathy]
Make it pretty.
Make it bleed.
The ink is everything I need.
Make it pretty.
Make it bleed.
The ink is everything I need.
[Chorus- The soundscape opens up—massive, lush synths and a heavy, slow drum groove]
I’m carving masterpieces out of the mess
Every jagged line is a holy confession in a white dress!
I’ll turn the trauma into gold, the hollow into art
There’s a stained-glass window where I used to have a heart!
Look at the colors... look at the way I break!
[Verse- Music thins out—just a clicking electronic beat and a fuzzy bass synth]
I stopped trying to heal; I started to etch.
Every nightmare is a blueprint, every shiver is a sketch.
My skin is a canvas of "never again"
I’m rewriting the story with the blood from the pen.
Don’t call it a wound, call it a gallery
I’m the architect of my own agony.
[Pre-Chorus- Drums build with a driving, tribal intensity. Guitars begin to swell with "shimmer" reverb]
The chisel hits the bone!
The marble starts to moan!
I’m finally not alone!
[Chorus- Full volume. Huge, melodic vocals—Rory Rodriguez style]
I’m carving masterpieces out of the mess
Every jagged line is a holy confession in a white dress!
I’ll turn the trauma into gold, the hollow into art
There’s a stained-glass window where I used to have a heart!
Look at the colors... look at the way I break!
[Instrumental Breakdown- The tempo stays slow, but the guitars drop into a "djenty," palm-muted chug that hits like a physical weight. The drums are chaotic, with fast double-kick patterns. High-pitched, dissonant synth screams pierce through the heavy low-end, pure catharsis.]
[Final Chorus- The heavy guitars stay, but the vocal melody goes even higher, pushing into a distorted "cry-vocal" territory]
I’M CARVING MASTERPIECES OUT OF THE MESS!
I’M BEAUTIFUL IN THE DARKNESS, I MUST CONFESS!
I turned the trauma into gold! I turned the hollow into art!
BEHOLD THE cathedral...
BEHOLD THE BROKEN part!
[Slower Instrumental Break- The chaos vanishes. We return to the soft piano from the intro, but it’s slower, decaying into feedback. The sound of a single brushstroke against a canvas. The sub-bass fades out into a low, vibrating hum that eventually clicks off.]
Atlantica
