Intro (spoken, low) Pop another pill, I bet you will… anything to keep the silence still. Verse 1 Pop another pill, I bet you will, anything to quiet what you feel. Anything to slow the spin, anything to not look in. You say it’s just to take the edge, just to soften what’s in your chest. But every dose just builds the wall, temporary calm before the fall. You don’t want highs, you don’t want lows, you just want something neutral. Some middle ground where nothing stings, no sharp thoughts, no brutal. You call it coping, call it rest, but it’s escape dressed up as “best.” You don’t trust yourself awake, so you sedate what you can’t shake. Mirror talks, you turn away, promise you’ll deal with it “another day.” But another day keeps stacking up, and numbness never feels like enough. Hook I don’t wanna feel it, I just wanna float, quiet the storm in my throat. If I can’t fix it, I’ll blur the line, tell myself I’m “doing fine.” Pop another pill, kill the weight, anything to not sit and face the version of me I don’t defend — just numb again… just numb again. Verse 2 It’s not addiction, it’s avoidance dressed, trying to mute what won’t let rest. Every thought too loud to bear, so you dim the lights in there. You don’t want chaos, you don’t want pain, you just want quiet in your brain. But silence bought with something fake never holds when you’re awake. You say you’re tired of overthinking, tired of sinking, tired of shrinking. But shrinking small to dodge the ache still leaves a hollow shape. You don’t hate life, you hate the noise, hate how your mind destroys every calm you try to build, every moment unfulfilled. So you reach for easy relief, short-term calm, long-term grief. Tell yourself it’s under control — but you’re outsourcing your own soul. Bridge (quiet, honest) What if the pain ain’t meant to leave? What if it’s something you have to meet? Not fight, not drown, not medicate — just sit with it before it fades. You’re not weak for feeling weight — you’re just human carrying it. Final Hook I don’t wanna feel it, I just wanna breathe without something numbing me. I don’t need perfect, I don’t need clean — just real, even if it stings. No more pills to hide the strain, no more fog to dodge the pain. If I’m gonna heal, it won’t pretend — no more numb again… no more numb again. Outro (spoken, steady) It’s not about never hurting. It’s about not running from it. Even if it shakes. Even if it stays.

Numb again