Pickle-Scented Vampire

[Verse 1]
Room like a cave
Blue glare on your face
Neck bent down
Like a vulture over prey
Stacked cans
Cold fries
Wrappers on the floor
You say you’re “grinding”
But you’re thirty hours deep
Maybe more (hey)
[Chorus]
You’re a pickle-scented vampire
Hissing when I flip the light
Claws on the keyboard
Pale as paper
Hunched like you’re ready to bite
Yeah
A pickle-scented vampire
Shrieking when the curtains part
Living on lag and sour brine
While the real world falls apart
[Verse 2]
Chair carved a groove
In your twisted spine
You call it “focus”
I call it losing time
Headset halo
Sweat and salt and brine
You say “one more match”
You been saying that since nine (oh yeah)
[Chorus]
You’re a pickle-scented vampire
Hissing when I flip the light
Claws on the keyboard
Pale as paper
Hunched like you’re ready to bite
Yeah
A pickle-scented vampire
Shrieking when the curtains part
Living on lag and sour brine
While the real world falls apart
[Bridge]
[Band drops to half-time groove]
When did your shadow
Look more screen than skin?
When did the night shift
Move into your grin?
You laugh it off
Say “this is who I am”
Then duck from the daylight
Like it’s some kind of scam
[Chorus]
You’re a pickle-scented vampire
Hissing when I flip the light
Claws on the keyboard
Pale as paper
Hunched like you’re ready to bite
Yeah
A pickle-scented vampire
Shrieking when the curtains part
Living on lag and sour brine
While the real world falls apart
[Outro]
[Gang vocals]
Pickle-scented vampire (hey!)
Step outside your bunker
Man
Pickle-scented vampire
Stand up straight
If you can

rock, Crunchy 90s alt-rock with fuzzed-out power chords and live drums, male vocals snarling in the verses, big gang-shouted hooks on the chorus. Guitars stay tight and muted in the build, then explode open with octave leads on the title line. Bass grinds in the midrange, drums ride-heavy on the choruses. Brief half-time bridge with spoken-style vocal before a final, shout-along outro., light