I Think My Fridge Is Gaslighting Me

Fast, heavy pop-punk with thick, overdriven guitars locked tight to punchy, aggressive drums, Raw, raspy lead vocals drive the melody, layered with shouted call-and-response and gang vocals, A loose, goofy choir shouts “oh!” in the back, peaking in infectious, catchy choruses

V4.5+

I think my fridge is gaslighting me Even though I’ve done nothin’ wrong It blinks when I look and hums when I pee It’s been smugly chillin' all along I saw my yogurt in the veggie tray My ketchup's gone, replaced with jam I found my wallet in the ice cube bay Now my cheese knows who I am And as I sit there eatin’ mustard from a teaspoon I think how my friends say I should “maybe go outside” But maybe they don’t know the fridge is plotting in the back room And whisperin’ insults through the pickles late at night I think my fridge is gaslighting me Even though I’ve done nothin’ wrong It hides my snacks, pretends it’s empty But I saw the pudding all along I saw the pudding all along! You saw the pudding? - I saw the pudding! Bad fridge Did you hafta be a bad fridge? Did you hafta rearrange my pasta shells? Turn the light off just to send me into hell? Bad fridge Did you hafta be a bad fridge? You keep gaslightin’ like a passive-aggressive mom Givin’ me the coldest silent bomb Oh fridge Did you hafta be a bad fridge Did you hafta be a bad fridge Did you hafta be a bad fridge Oh fridge Did you hafta be a bad fridge Did you hafta be a bad fridge Now my eggs don’t even look me in the eye

0/500