Riptide

(Intro (soft piano / distant vocal layer))
How am I supposed to ask you
to be both what I’m afraid of
and my safety?


(Verse 1)
I’ve been a second choice,
I’ve been an afterthought.
How am I meant to stand
at the top of my pillar now
when I’ve never been
at the top of anything?


(Build)
Medicated reassurance doesn’t work,
I can’t even trust myself.
How am I supposed to be your solace,
be your ecstasy,
when I’m so quiet
in the storms inside of me?


(Chorus (Hook Version))
It always feels like I’m gasping,
always feels like I’m gasping.
I love you — but I loved him,
I don’t know what that makes me.

How are you supposed to be
what I’m afraid of
and my safety?
What I’m afraid of
and my safety.

How am I supposed to be your solace,
be your ecstasy,
when I’m so quiet
in the storms inside of me?

It always feels like I’m gasping,
always feels like I’m gasping.


(Verse 2 (low instrumentation))
That part of me is running
against a riptide,
dissociation pulling me further.
I hope I don’t hurt you
with what I might do
with my fears.
It’s not your fault —
it’s just what it is.


(Break (near silence / layered whisper vocal))
I wish you could’ve met who I was
before the freedom
and the faith
was beat out of me.


(Final Chorus (bigger ending))
It always feels like I’m gasping,
always feels like I’m gasping.
If you can be both my terror
and my safety,
maybe I’ll finally learn
how to breathe.

It always feels like I’m gasping…
until I breathe.


(Outro (fade))
I’m still learning
how to breathe.

Metal, rock, sleep token style, deep, hard bass, guitar solo, female