"The story, idea, and lyrics are the original work of Lamefroid." Copyright Β© 2026 Lamefroid. All rights reserved I sit in the middle of the noise bodies lean in, mouths move laughter spills like cheap wine I nod, I smile, I pass the bottle They think Iβm here. Iβm not. At the borders of vision where the light gives out dark thoughts lurk like shadows patient, waiting Whispers under the pillow sharp as knives sweet as ripe fruit full of worms and alcohol The scream dies before it ever reaches the mouth Hands clap my back voices call my name the room is crowded with warm bodies and I am colder than the glass in my hand Every face is a mirror that shows me nothing every word is a door I will not walk through At the borders of vision where the light gives out dark thoughts lurk like shadows patient, waiting Whispers under the pillow sharp as knives sweet as ripe fruit full of worms and alcohol The scream dies before it ever reaches the mouth I have lived so long inside this quiet war that silence feels like home and people feel like strangers wearing my own skin The dark does not knock. It simply waits at the place where vision stops and everything real begins. At the borders of vision where the light gives out dark thoughts lurk like shadows patient, waiting Whispers under the pillow sharp as knives sweet as ripe fruit full of worms and alcohol The scream dies before it ever reaches the mouth Iβm surrounded. Iβm empty. The faces keep talking. The room keeps breathing. And the dark is already inside.
