(Tempo: Slow, heavy. Mood: Oppressive but powerful.)
(Intro)
(A deep cello holds a single, vibrating low note. Sparse piano enters with dissonant, high-pitched chords that linger in the air.)
(Verse 1)
Cold iron in the chest,
A ribcage turned to stone.
The breath is getting shallow now,
A secret on its own.
The throat is a desert floor,
The tongue is tied with wire.
Watching how you’re pacing there,
Playing with the fire.
(Chorus)
(Bass enters: A dull, thumping heartbeat rhythm, heavy and distorted.)
Oh, the weight of every word,
Like a blade against the skin.
If I let the window open,
Will you let the winter in?
You turn my truth to silver bullets,
To aim them at my soul.
The one who holds my shaking hands,
Is losing all control.
(Verse 2)
(Piano becomes more rhythmic and urgent, repetitive and sharp.)
Sweat is pooling in my palms,
A fever in the bone.
Trust is just a fragile glass,
In a house of jagged stone.
I want to speak, I want to scream,
But my stomach turns to lead.
Tracing every weaponized line,
Of everything I said.
(Bridge)
(Cello rises in pitch, becoming a strained, weeping melody. The bass grows thick and overwhelming.)
The pulse is racing, skipping beats,
A frantic, broken drum.
The closer that you get to me,
The more that I grow numb.
I’m a map of all my bruises,
And you know where they hide.
There’s a lock upon the treasure chest,
And nowhere left to reside.
(Chorus)
(Full instrumentation: Piano, Cello, and Bass swell together in a dark wall of sound.)
Oh, the weight of every word,
Like a blade against the skin.
If I let the window open,
Will you let the winter in?
You turn my truth to silver bullets,
To aim them at my soul.
The one who holds my shaking hands,
Is losing all control.
(Outro)
(Music cuts abruptly. Only the piano remains with a final, echoing low note.)
Chest is tight.
Eyes are wide.
Keep the lock.
Stay inside.
Symmetry
