STAINED INNOCENCE (alt-rock / darkly confessional / razor-wire honesty) Verse 1 Turns out rock bottom had a basement. I found it after I got clean. Funny how the monsters leave the closet just to wait for you politely by the coffee machine. Every bad decision used to have background music— neon hallelujahs, nicotine symphonies. Now recovery’s mostly paperwork and apologizing to people I used to be. The house is quiet. The walls aren’t. Pre-Chorus They said, “You’ll feel better.” That’s technically true. Nobody mentioned feeling everything would count as healing too. Chorus I know I’m wrong, but I miss the fire. Not because it saved me, because it distracted me from the wreckage. Stained Innocence, come back for a night. The quiet keeps proving my therapist right. Verse 2 Sobriety’s expensive. Now I have to feel everything I bought on credit. Every unpaid grief collects interest. Every old lie sends another debt collector. I thought peace would feel like freedom. Instead it feels like fluorescent lighting. Like every flaw I ever tried to bury finally got promoted to management. The mirror’s been unusually honest lately. We’re taking some time apart. Pre-Chorus My coping mechanisms died. The funeral was beautiful. I wore black. They would’ve wanted that. Chorus I know I’m wrong, but I miss the fire. Not because it saved me, because it distracted me from the wreckage. Stained Innocence, come back for a night. The quiet keeps proving my therapist right. Bridge Nobody mentioned the silence came with subtitles. Every whisper has a footnote. Every memory wants cross-examination. Every sleepless night submits new evidence. The drugs left. Unfortunately, they left me with me. And God— isn’t that the punchline? I spent years trying not to die. Nobody warned me I’d have to learn how to live. Final Chorus I know I’m wrong, but I miss the fire. Not because it saved me, because it distracted me from the wreckage. Stained Innocence, don’t come back tonight. The quiet keeps proving my therapist right. And I hate it. God, I hate it. But I think she might be right. Outro Turns out the monster under my bed was paying rent. Turns out peace isn’t quiet. It’s just loud enough to hear yourself. Stained Innocence… Stained Innocence… The first honest thing I ever lost.
