**Song Title: "Beak Bleeds Truth (Doomed Confessions)"**
*(Intro – Spoken in a raspy, unhinged whisper over distorted trap hi-hats and a grinding industrial guitar riff, Tim Burton carnival organ creeping in the background)*
Yeah... mask on, but the stench still hits.
These idiots keep talking. Keep confessing.
I’m one beak twitch from burning it all down.
Let’s go!
---
**Verse 1** (Aggressive Slim Shady flow – rapid fire, sarcastic spit)
I’m the frazzled plague doctor, robes tattered, eyes wild,
Beak full of herbs but the smell of your sin got me riled.
Y’all lining up like it’s Black Death speed dating,
Confessing your dirt while the reaper’s masturbating.
"Boo-hoo, Doc, I cheated on my wife with her sister,
Then doom-posted online 'bout how the world's a blister."
Bitch, the rats ain’t even this bold with their treason,
You out here speedrunning damnation for likes and for no reason!
I got leeches in my bag, but they drowning in your bullshit,
You trade your soul for a trend, now you wondering why you feel sick.
Tim Burton skies, twisted trees, corpses doing the jitterbug,
While you TikTok dance on the edge of the abyss, you dumb fuck!
Sarcastic clapback from the grave, I’m the plague’s own Eminem,
Slim Shady with a scythe, carving "Y’all finished" on your skin.
**Chorus** (Trap metal banger – heavy 808s slamming, screamed vocals with distorted laughter)
DOOMED! DOOMED! Everybody’s fuckin’ doomed!
Confessing your sins like it’s Black Friday at the tomb!
I’m shocked, I’m fried, beak cracking from the lies,
Humanity’s a punchline in this Tim Burton disguise!
DOOMED! DOOMED! Keep talking, I’m amused,
While the darkness laughs and the funeral bells get loose!
Plague doctor popping pills just to deal with you fools—
Y’all already dead, I’m just waiting on the tools!
**Verse 2** (Even faster, more vicious – double-time aggression)
Look at this clown, "Doc, I sold my kids' future for crypto and clout,"
I’m stitching corpses together just to find better company now.
Your OnlyFans soul naked and rotting in 4K,
While the void does the worm to a funeral polka.
I seen kings beg, I seen peasants confess quicker,
But modern man? You glitch like a NPC in the picture.
"I ghosted my mom, ate the rich, then became 'em,
Now I’m anxious and depressed—can you fix me, dear surgeon?"
Nah, I’m frazzled, mask slipping, feathers molting in rage,
You built your own coffin then asked for a stage.
Sarcasm dripping like pus from a buboe,
I’d rather dance with skeletons in a moonlit ballroom,
Burton-style, striped suits, scissors for hands,
Than listen to one more "I’m a good person" from you, fam.
**Bridge** (Slow, menacing trap beat switch – deep bass, creepy music box melody)
Tick... tock... hear the pendulum swing?
That’s your time running out while you still do your thing.
I tried to warn ya, herbs in the air, ravens on my shoulder,
But you chose the algorithm over get
Ashonedge
