Glass On Cold

{steady, clinical

bass-pulse and sharp, rhythmic synth-staccato}

No offense taken, I’m immune to the sting I told you the

truth, an unvarnished thing.

I’m playing the role of the unaffected ghost After the pyre,

the fire, the burnt-up host.

You’re lounging in comfort,

a vintage display But the resonance shifted,

the memory’s astray. Time is a solvent,

it erodes the design.

Thank heaven for that.

It’s no longer mine.

{subtle robotic filter on phonies} I’m perfectly cool,

apathetic by choice You never followed the calls of your own hollow

voice. The narrative’s tired,

the structure is weak I see the repetition,

the predictable streak. Calm down the theater,

the walls have collapsed I’m done with the spinning,

the breath that you trapped.

{layered piercing ironic harmonies} I’m not wearing the mask,

unlike your showcase The artificial star,

with the porcelain face.

You claim the regret,

the performance of grief But I know the tally,

I’m beyond the belief.

The rumors are verified,

the girls have all spoken The cycle of scripts,

the pattern is broken.

{rapid-fire vocal chop on thought wrong}

Silver lining.

Le côté positif.

Still in my mind.

Toujours une partie de moi.

Thanks for the void.

Merci pour le rien.

{whisper very close-mic, rhythmic dry bass-pulse,

faint clock-ticking}

100% Tiguidou. The script is shredded.

You’re still reciting it,

but I’ve

left the room. {final flat unemotional synth-chord,

sound of front door locked from inside,

raw intimate bedroom studio vibe}