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Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Paper bowl on the coffee table
Family stories
Sunday game
She laughs
Reaches in for flavors
Salt and vinegar
Feel the sting again
The old man’s urn on the mantel
Photo frame in a crooked line
His sister drove out to the hillside
Said she’d scatter him
“it’s time”
[Chorus]
She’s eating chips with ashes on her fingers
Crunch and silence
Taste that lingers
Whole room freezes
No one speaks
Grief gone sideways in a single bite
This week
Yeah
She’s eating chips with ashes on her fingers
And this family’s gonna tell it for years
[Verse 2]
Aunt drove back in from the country
Dust on her shoes from the road
Stuck both hands in the metal container
Said
“I’ll go alone
I’ve got the load”
Wind kicked up on the ridgeline
White and gray in the air
Came back home
Straight to the snack bowl
Reached in laughing
“you had to be there”
[Chorus]
She’s eating chips with ashes on her fingers
Crunch and silence
Taste that lingers
Whole room freezes
No one speaks
Grief gone sideways in a single bite
This week
Yeah
She’s eating chips with ashes on her fingers
And this story’s gonna haunt every meal
[Bridge]
[low vocal register]
Is it wrong to feel disgusted
Is it worse to feel him near
In the salt
In the crumbs
In the carpet
In the joke that covers up the fear
She wipes her hands on a napkin
Tries to laugh
Tries not to gag
Someone says
“He’d find this funny”
Someone else just stares at the bag
[Chorus]
Details
GeneratedDec 29, 2025
Duration3:49
LanguageEnglish
Style
folk, Indie pop-rock band feel, steady midtempo groove. Clean electric guitar arpeggios and tight bass in the verses; drums stay dry and close. Chorus widens with crunchy rhythm guitars, tambourine, and stacked harmonies on the hook. Brief eerie synth pad under the bridge for tension, then a punchy final chorus. Male vocals with a slightly sardonic, storytelling tone.
Credits
Prompt by
MadMadMuzik
MadMadMuzikModelAria v5
Prompt
Song about a story about a girl who was eating chips with her father in law’s ashes in it. They got there because her husband’s aunt put her bare bands in the ashes to scatter never washed touch chips
