7. They Gave Me Novicane (For A Better Fake Smile)

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(Verse 1 - Mumbled:)
The TV in the hotel lobby’s preaching…
Another talking head is overreaching…
My face is on the screen but it’s not me…
It’s a pleasant, painted shell for you to see…
The words come out, they’re soft and neat…
A scripted, calm, complete retreat…
From anything that I once meant…
Before my anger was leased and spent…

(Pre-Chorus - Lifting:)
So shoot me up with satellite feed…
With anything to make the caverns bleed…
A little less… a little quiet…
Drown the riot…

(Chorus - Hazy Release:)
Give me novocaine for this fake smile…
For the handshake that goes on for a mile…
A local anesthetic for the soul on sale…
A chemical curtain for the details…
Just give me… novocaine…

(Verse 2:)
The interviewer’s laugh is a canned sound…
Echoing off the walls of the empty room I’ve found…
Inside myself… a quiet, padded cell…
Where the only screaming stories I can sell…
Are ones of comfortable despair…
With a market-tested, stylish hair…
I’m signing books with a phantom limb…
A ghostwriter’s hologram, looking grim…

(Pre-Chorus:)
So shoot me up with the room tone hum…
With the numbing buzz of becoming dumb…
A little less… a little faint…
Paint me a saint…

(Chorus:)
Give me novocaine for this fake smile…
For the handshake that goes on for a mile…
A local anesthetic for the soul on sale…
A chemical curtain for the details…
Just give me… novocaine…

[Bridge - Guitar Swirl: The music becomes a swirling vortex of sound | TAG: The lead guitar emerges with a slow, weeping, melodic solo, but it’s buried under layers of effects—it’s beautiful but utterly obscured |TAG:  The vocal ad-libs, barely audible:]
Where’s the boy… who bled on the page?…
He’s locked in a cage… of a minimum wage… of the spirit…
They paid for the silence… they bought all the sirens…
And left me… the quiet…

[Instrumental Outro: The song doesn’t end with a chord It just… dissipates. | Tag: The drum machine slows down, warps. The swirling guitars fade into a profound, empty silence:]

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[Synth Swell Intro: | TAG:The feedback dissolves into a warm, shimmering synth pad that hangs in the air. A slow, steady, electronic kick drum and snare like a heartbeat monitor clicks in | TAG: A bass note drones. Swirling, reversed guitar sounds fade in and out like memories:] (Verse 1 - Mumbled:) The TV in the hotel lobby’s preaching… Another talking head is overreaching… My face is on the screen but it’s not me… It’s a pleasant, painted shell for you to see… The words come out, they’re soft and neat… A scripted, calm, complete retreat… From anything that I once meant… Before my anger was leased and spent… (Pre-Chorus - Lifting:) So shoot me up with satellite feed… With anything to make the caverns bleed… A little less… a little quiet… Drown the riot… (Chorus - Hazy Release:) Give me novocaine for this fake smile… For the handshake that goes on for a mile… A local anesthetic for the soul on sale… A chemical curtain for the details… Just give me… novocaine… (Verse 2:) The interviewer’s laugh is a canned sound… Echoing off the walls of the empty room I’ve found… Inside myself… a quiet, padded cell… Where the only screaming stories I can sell… Are ones of comfortable despair… With a market-tested, stylish hair… I’m signing books with a phantom limb… A ghostwriter’s hologram, looking grim… (Pre-Chorus:) So shoot me up with the room tone hum… With the numbing buzz of becoming dumb… A little less… a little faint… Paint me a saint… (Chorus:) Give me novocaine for this fake smile… For the handshake that goes on for a mile… A local anesthetic for the soul on sale… A chemical curtain for the details… Just give me… novocaine… [Bridge - Guitar Swirl: The music becomes a swirling vortex of sound | TAG: The lead guitar emerges with a slow, weeping, melodic solo, but it’s buried under layers of effects—it’s beautiful but utterly obscured |TAG: The vocal ad-libs, barely audible:] Where’s the boy… who bled on the page?… He’s locked in a cage… of a minimum wage… of the spirit… They paid for the silence… they bought all the sirens… And left me… the quiet… [Instrumental Outro: The song doesn’t end with a chord It just… dissipates. | Tag: The drum machine slows down, warps. The swirling guitars fade into a profound, empty silence:]

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