A Song for pSyChoS! - Airborne Anger

Airborne Anger

PsYChoS

Airborne Anger

Funk metal, thrash metal

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[Verse 1 – low, conversational vocal; dry palm-muted guitar and prowling bass; energy pulls inward]
I practice looking sorry
Till the mirror gets bored.
Keep my little explanations
In alphabetical order.
I can make a wound sound reasonable,
Explain what you deserved.
Then ask why you're so quiet
When I've chosen all my words.

[Transition – instruments cut; close whispered vocal; tension hangs]
(low) I never raise my voice.
I just make yours smaller.

[Pre-Chorus – vocal pushes upward; guitar opens gradually; toms accelerate]
There's a reason every picture
Only shows the better half—

[Chorus – strained melodic vocal; thick chords, driving bass and sharp drums; hook expands]
I GOT A GOOD SIDE—
IT'S FACING THE STREET.
A song for psychos
Dressed up like me.
Flowers in the window.
Nothing you can see.
I GOT A GOOD SIDE—
DON'T LOOK UNDERNEATH.

[Instrumental / Solo – vocal absent; guitar answers the hook with sour bends, pinch squeals and wide vibrato; drums briefly drop before a full-band return]

[Verse 2 – gritty, clipped vocal; tighter chugs and busier bass; confidence starts to fracture]
I hired every witness,
Then declared the hearing fair.
Made a list of all your failures
With my handwriting everywhere.
Funny how the people
Who were difficult to please
Started sleeping through the evening
When they stopped explaining me.

[Transition – kick and guitars stop; exposed vocal loses its smugness]
(flat) I called that abandonment.
(breath)
They called it getting sleep.

[Pre-Chorus – rising strained vocal; climbing guitar bends and forceful toms; pressure tightens]
I've been polishing the handle
On a door I never use—

[Chorus – sharper phrasing; guitars strike then choke; heavier drums destabilize the groove]
I GOT A GOOD SIDE—
IT'S FACING THE STREET.
A song for psychos
Dressed up like me.
Everybody gets a story.
Mine comes clean and neatly creased.
I GOT A GOOD SIDE—
WHY WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME?

[Bridge – controlled halftime; almost spoken vocal over bare bass; anger gives way to recognition]
(low) I thought this song was about you.
Had the whole thing figured out.
Had a room full of accusations.
Had your name inside my mouth.

Then I played back the recording.
Heard the pleasure in the bite.
Heard how badly I need someone
To be wrong so I stay right.

[Drop – complete instrumental silence; quiet, unsteady vocal]
I keep saying “people”...
When I mean me.

[Build – vocal climbs from breath to strain; guitar feedback rises into bent notes; toms rebuild full tempo]
No speech to make this pretty.
No clever little plea.
Leave the ugly sentence standing—
LET IT FINISH WITHOUT ME.

[Final Chorus – peak single-vocal strain; broad distorted chords and hard drums; brief stops expose the changed hook]
I GOT A GOOD SIDE—
IT'S FACING THE STREET.
A song for psychos.
I SAVED YOU A SEAT.
Had a whole damn case against you.
Had myself misunderstood.
I GOT A GOOD SIDE—
BUT IT DOESN'T MAKE ME GOOD.

[Outro – low, exhausted vocal; one unresolved guitar bend falls into silence; hard stop]
I left the curtains open.
Didn't like the view.

3317/7500

[Chorus – immediate hook; single male vocal snarls into high strain; distorted chord hits and hard snare land between phrases] I GOT A GOOD SIDE— IT'S FACING THE STREET. A song for psychos Dressed up like me. Beautiful manners. Careful with the key. [Verse 1 – low, conversational vocal; dry palm-muted guitar and prowling bass; energy pulls inward] I practice looking sorry Till the mirror gets bored. Keep my little explanations In alphabetical order. I can make a wound sound reasonable, Explain what you deserved. Then ask why you're so quiet When I've chosen all my words. [Transition – instruments cut; close whispered vocal; tension hangs] (low) I never raise my voice. I just make yours smaller. [Pre-Chorus – vocal pushes upward; guitar opens gradually; toms accelerate] There's a reason every picture Only shows the better half— [Chorus – strained melodic vocal; thick chords, driving bass and sharp drums; hook expands] I GOT A GOOD SIDE— IT'S FACING THE STREET. A song for psychos Dressed up like me. Flowers in the window. Nothing you can see. I GOT A GOOD SIDE— DON'T LOOK UNDERNEATH. [Instrumental / Solo – vocal absent; guitar answers the hook with sour bends, pinch squeals and wide vibrato; drums briefly drop before a full-band return] [Verse 2 – gritty, clipped vocal; tighter chugs and busier bass; confidence starts to fracture] I hired every witness, Then declared the hearing fair. Made a list of all your failures With my handwriting everywhere. Funny how the people Who were difficult to please Started sleeping through the evening When they stopped explaining me. [Transition – kick and guitars stop; exposed vocal loses its smugness] (flat) I called that abandonment. (breath) They called it getting sleep. [Pre-Chorus – rising strained vocal; climbing guitar bends and forceful toms; pressure tightens] I've been polishing the handle On a door I never use— [Chorus – sharper phrasing; guitars strike then choke; heavier drums destabilize the groove] I GOT A GOOD SIDE— IT'S FACING THE STREET. A song for psychos Dressed up like me. Everybody gets a story. Mine comes clean and neatly creased. I GOT A GOOD SIDE— WHY WON'T YOU LOOK AT ME? [Bridge – controlled halftime; almost spoken vocal over bare bass; anger gives way to recognition] (low) I thought this song was about you. Had the whole thing figured out. Had a room full of accusations. Had your name inside my mouth. Then I played back the recording. Heard the pleasure in the bite. Heard how badly I need someone To be wrong so I stay right. [Drop – complete instrumental silence; quiet, unsteady vocal] I keep saying “people”... When I mean me. [Build – vocal climbs from breath to strain; guitar feedback rises into bent notes; toms rebuild full tempo] No speech to make this pretty. No clever little plea. Leave the ugly sentence standing— LET IT FINISH WITHOUT ME. [Final Chorus – peak single-vocal strain; broad distorted chords and hard drums; brief stops expose the changed hook] I GOT A GOOD SIDE— IT'S FACING THE STREET. A song for psychos. I SAVED YOU A SEAT. Had a whole damn case against you. Had myself misunderstood. I GOT A GOOD SIDE— BUT IT DOESN'T MAKE ME GOOD. [Outro – low, exhausted vocal; one unresolved guitar bend falls into silence; hard stop] I left the curtains open. Didn't like the view.

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