[Verse 1] There’s a radio screaming behind my eyes, stations I never chose, frequencies of lies. Thoughts kick the door like they own the place, wearing my voice, but not always my face. Anxiety’s a smoke alarm screaming at steam, obsession’s a courtroom that never adjourns me. Reality bends like heat over tar, and suddenly my own mind feels incredibly far. [Chorus] Someone else is driving— that’s what it feels like tonight. But these are still my hands, and I still choose left or right. A thought isn’t an order. A voice isn’t a king. A storm entering my skull doesn’t get to govern everything. [Verse 2] The Devil whispers, “Blame me.” I tell him, “That’s too easy.” Pain can explain why I’m bleeding, it doesn’t make everybody bleed me. [Outro] I cannot always choose what knocks upon the door. But I can learn what I refuse to let inside.
