[Verse 1]
Y’all are probably thinking, “Girl, move on.”
Trust me, I’ve been trying all along.
But my therapist gets paid by the hour,
These choruses got way more power.
So if you’re counting… yeah, it’s song twenty-three.
No, I’m not obsessed… just creatively.
[Pre-Chorus]
Some people journal.
Some people scream.
I rhyme your red flags with a melody.
[Chorus]
I just wrote these songs for therapy,
Cheaper than a copay, works for me.
Didn’t slash your tires, didn’t key your truck,
Just found a rhyme for “what the…” and cleaned it up.
If you think this album means I want you back,
Buddy, you misunderstood the track.
Congratulations, you inspired art.
That’s all that’s left… besides emotional damage and a catchy guitar part.
[Verse 2]
You became my unpaid ghostwriter,
Every bad decision made the hooks hit brighter.
Every mixed signal, every stupid fight,
That’s another chorus by Friday night.
I should probably send you royalties…
Then I remember… absolutely not.
[Bridge]
Let’s be honest, this could’ve gone way worse.
Could’ve shown up at your house.
Could’ve started throwing hands.
Instead I started throwing verses.
You’re welcome.
[Final Chorus]
I just wrote these songs for therapy,
Now my playlist has a PhD.
Turns out heartbreak’s got incredible range,
It’s amazing what a little pain can arrange.
One day you’ll just be background noise,
A story, not a choice.
Until then I’ll keep cashing in these melodies…
Because healing sounds a whole lot better
When it rhymes in the key of me.
[Outro]
So no, this isn’t a comeback tour.
It’s emotional recycling.
Reduce. Reuse. Refrain.
