Crown of Scars

[Verse 1]  
I got a throne made of broken barstools  
Crown of cigarette burns and yesterday’s rules  
Rulin’ this dive where the neon’s half-dead  
Screamin’ at shadows that live in my head  

Every handshake’s a knife in the ribs  
Every promise just another bad fib  
I drink like a lord, puke like a clown  
Still wear the smirk when the whole room burns down  

[Chorus]  
I’m livin’ like a king on a mattress of lies!  
Blood on the carpet and fire in my eyes!  
No screen, no signal, just sweat and raw spite!  
King of the wreckage—fuck your polite!  

[Verse 2]  
Got a court full of drunks and one-eyed regrets  
Jesters with switchblades, queens placing bets  
They toast to my ruin, I laugh in their face  
Spit in the chalice, then fall on my grace  

The mirror’s a fistfight I lost long ago  
Reflection keeps bleedin’ wherever I go  
But I stand in the piss-stink and howl at the moon  
‘Cause a king without power still howls like a loon  

[Chorus]  
I’m livin’ like a king on a mattress of lies!  
Scars for my scepter, truth for my vice!  
No likes, no followers, just venom and fight!  
King of the gutter—still burnin’ tonight!  

[Bridge – slower, spoken-snarled, building]  
You want the real crown?  
It’s heavy.  
It stinks of copper and shame.  
It don’t shine.  
It cuts.  
And once you wear it…  
you never take it off.  

[Guitar solo – ugly, bends that sound like screams, feedback like a dying amp]

[Final Chorus – full throttle, voices cracking]  
Livin’ like a king! (In a grave of my lies!)  
Livin’ like a king! (With the devil’s own eyes!)  
No throne but the floor where the real ones die!  
King of the nothin’—still refusin’ to cry!  
KING OF THE FUCKIN’ LIES!!!

*(last chord hangs forever, cymbal choked, mic feedback eating the room)*

gritty, mid-tempo rock – think early ‘90s grunge meets street-punk snarl, no gloss, just teeth