[Intro]
[Sound: The flatline dial tone warps, pitching down into a heavy, echoing gothic church organ melody. A low, vibrating sub-bass settles in, shaking the room.]
[Vocal is quiet, close to the mic, and dripping with cold sarcasm]
Look at you...
A walking, talking masterpiece of absolute fiction.
[Verse 1]
[Style: Dark, heavy mid-tempo groove kicks in—a slow, dragging, industrial stomp. The gothic organ continues under the beat, layered with a low, crying acoustic cello.][Vocal delivery is rhythmic, quiet, and deeply bitter]
I found the fake account. The one you use to keep tabs on me.
The one you honestly thought I’d never trace back to your pathetic habits.
It’s hilarious how much effort you put into keeping up the image.
The expensive clothes, the high-end excuses, the designer lies...
You wear them like a shield to hide how empty you are inside.
[The crying cello suddenly shifts into a sharp, screeching violin note]
You sold me a version of yourself that literally never existed.
And I bought it. God, I bought all of it because I wanted to believe you so badly.
But the paint is peeling off your little gallery window now, and it looks cheap.
[Pre-Chorus]
[Style: The Gothic Build-up. A massive orchestral choir enters, singing a haunting, operatic melody in a minor key. The industrial snare begins a heavy, marching buildup. The sub-bass swells violently, creating an intense, suffocating pressure in the chest.]
[Vocal grows louder, filled with deep disgust]
You’re sitting on a throne built entirely on smoke and mirrors.
Every single promise you made me was just a placeholder until something better came along.
I tore my own mental health to pieces trying to fix your broken ego,
But you were just using my light to hide your own shadow!
[The church organ plays one final, massive, terrifying chord]
[The music cuts out completely for a fraction of a second—absolute silence]
[Shouted with raw anger:] LOOK AT ME!
[Chorus – THE TEAROUT DROP]
[Style: Pure Mainstage Heavy Bass. A massive, sluggish 110 BPM mid-tempo stomp slams in. Terrifying, mechanical tearout bass growls rip through the speakers, layered with an apocalyptic background symphony of brass and the gothic choir screaming in wide harmonies.]
DESIGNER LIES!
[The mechanical bass growls violently, shaking the audience's chests]
SUCH AN EXPENSIVE FRAUD!
YOU LOOKED ME IN THE EYE AND SOLD ME A FANTASY!
[Vocal fragments chop and glitch aggressively across the mix:] "LI-LI-LIES!"
BUT THE TRUTH IS OUT!
AND I AM DONE PAYING THE PRICE!
[Verse 2]
[Style: Gritty, slow-paced delivery. The heavy drums drop out, leaving only a slow, vibrating sub-bass pulse and the eerie, echo-drenched sound of an old music box playing out of tune.]
I know you’re still out there trying to spin the story to your friends.
Making me look like the crazy one, the one who couldn't handle you.
But we both know the truth. We both know what you did when the lights went out.
You’re a rental trying to pass yourself off as a custom build.
[Vocal builds rapidly in volume and raw distortion]
Go ahead and delete the pictures. Go ahead and block my number.
You can’t erase the fact that you’re a fraud, and everyone is finally starting to see it!
[Bridge]
[Style: The Symphony of Ruin. The heavy bass drops out entirely. A sweeping, beautiful, yet deeply tragic orchestral string section takes over. The operatic choir scales up into a grand, heartbreaking crescendo.]
[Vocal is completely clean, vulnerable, and soaring with absolute grief]
I loved a ghost...
I gave everything I had to a shadow...
And you just stood there and watched me bleed out on your canvas.
[A brutal, low-frequency industrial sub-bass swell begins to rise from the depths, layered with a massive, accelerating snare build]
You think you broke me?
[Screamed with maximum power:]
I’M JUST GETTING STARTED!
[Final Chorus – THE SYMPHONIC BLOWOUT]
[Maximum stadium volume. The full gothic symphony, screaming operatic choir, and the blown-out, mechanical mid-tempo tearout bass collide in absolute chaos. The low-end frequencies are pushed to the absolute limit to crush the venue.]
DESIGNER LIES!
YOU’RE RUNNING OUT OF COVERS![The vocal completely corrupts, fracturing into digital glass-shattering glitches]
THE TRUTH IS OUT!
[Screamed:] LOOK AT WHAT YOU DID!!!
[Outro]
[The festival drums cut instantly. The gothic church organ plays one final, low, fading, dissonant chord that echoes out into a massive room reverb.]
[Sound: The heavy, digital sound of a system shutting down or a computer fan grinding to a halt.]
[Through the fading silence, a single, sharp, distorted sub-bass thud hits—directly bridging the tension into the explosive opening of Track 4: I'M THE DAMAGE.]