Red Room

(Intro — amp hum, distant thud, tape click)

I didn’t lock the door.

I don’t think I ever had one.

But something’s inside now.

Something that sounds like you.

⸻

(Verse 1)

Walls sweat rust in the half-light glow

Carpet smells like a place I know

I hear your voice through a busted vent

Saying things you never meant

There’s a stain where the mirror cracked

Like the room’s keeping something back

I close my eyes and it breathes instead

Every thought’s got your voice in it

⸻

(Pre-Chorus)

I swear I felt your hand in mine

But the clock says I was alone that night

If this is real, why’s it feel rehearsed?

If this is fake, why does it hurt?

⸻

(Chorus)

I’m in the red room

No way out, no clean air

Your shadow’s stitched in the drywall there

I hear you moving in the static bloom

Every memory screams in the red room

I’m in the red room

Blood-tint sky in my skull

Your name carved deep where the paint peeled dull

If I made you up, why do you loom?

Why do you breathe in the red room?

⸻

(Verse 2)

Your laugh crawls out of the sink drain slow

Like it’s got somewhere else to go

I smash the glass but it shows me still

Every version you let me build

I found your note in my jacket sleeve

But I don’t remember you giving it to me

Your handwriting looks like mine

But crooked, like it learned to lie

⸻

(Pre-Chorus)

I try to leave but the hallways bend

Every door leads me back again

If you were real, where’d you disappear?

If you weren’t… why are you here?

⸻

(Chorus)

I’m in the red room

No way out, no clean air

Your whisper’s sewn in the wires there

I hear you living in the feedback bloom

Every heartbeat pounds in the red room

I’m in the red room

Mind chews glass, runs hot

Your face flickers where the film all rot

If you never loved me, why the wound?

Why’s it still open in the red room?

⸻

(Bridge — stripped drums, bass rumble, almost spoken)

Maybe I built you from empty space

Maybe I needed a ghost with your face

Maybe I carved you out of noise

Just to have something call my voice

Maybe you never stood that close

Maybe I fell for a shape, not a soul

Maybe the truth’s just this one thing:

You only live where I keep you breathing.

⸻

(Final Chorus — louder, desperate, distorted)

I’m in the red room

Ceiling drops like a lung

Your echo stuck on my rotten tongue

If you’re a lie, then why the doom?

Why do you rot in the red room?

I’m in the red room

No light left to exhume

Just me and the shape I can’t remove

If I forget you, do I lose

The only thing that proved I moved?

⸻

(Outro — tape slowing, heartbeat, whisper layered twice)

I think…

I think I remember you leaving.

…or maybe

I just needed you to.

(tape click)