Petty Little Tragedy

[Verse 1]
Black boots
Bathroom stall
Lipstick heart on the cracked white wall
I write my name
Then cross it out
Practice faces in the mirror
Deadpan pout
[Chorus]
I wanna be your petty little tragedy
Pinned like a flyer on your dirty ceiling
Laugh when I choke on my apology
I just wanna fit your kind of feeling
Make me your favorite catastrophe
At least you'd finally see me
[Verse 2]
Chain smoke secrets in your backseat haze
You talk big dreams
I fake craze
Nails in my palms
I just nod along
You like your girls quiet
But your records loud and wrong
[Chorus]
I wanna be your petty little tragedy
Pinned like a flyer on your dirty ceiling
Laugh when I choke on my apology
I just wanna fit your kind of feeling
Make me your favorite catastrophe
At least you'd finally see me
[Bridge]
Tell me what to wear
I’ll wear it (yeah)
Tell me what to break
I’ll tear it
If I burn myself to match your scene
Will you love me then
Or just love the scream?
[Chorus]
I wanna be your petty little tragedy
Pinned like a flyer on your dirty ceiling
Laugh when I choke on my apology
I just wanna fit your kind of feeling
Make me your favorite catastrophe
If I can’t belong
At least you’ll see me (see me)
(at least you’ll see me)

rock, Gritty indie-punk energy, female vocals. Crunchy rhythm guitars locked to a driving mid-tempo groove, bass snarling just behind the beat. Verses stay tight and tense with clipped drums and single-note guitar picks; choruses explode with wide power chords, gang shouts, and a slightly overdriven lead vocal. Brief feedback swell into a stripped bridge, then a final unison hit and raw vocal ad-lib., punk, indie rock