CROSSROADS IN THE COLD ROOM

[Intro] Flatline, pulse... click... (Spoken, almost dead): Cold metal on my back Tags on my toe The smell of antiseptic and formaldehyde— I guess I didn't die. [Verse 1 ] I woke in the morgue. Naked. Blue-lipped. Empty. A needle mark—a memory of warmth and nothingness... Now, I shiver in the void between. [Build] Where the fuck am I? Why can’t I scream? Why does my spine itch like fire beneath frozen skin? [Chorus 1 ] I DIED! BUT I CAME BACK HUNGRY!! MY BLOOD REMEMBERS! MY VEINS SCREAM! THE DEVIL WAITS AT THE DOOR — with a spoon, and a grin, and a whisper: “Choose again...” [Drop – Silence → heartbeat → distorted bass pulse] (Spoken, cracked): I clawed my way from hell, and found myself... back in the waiting room. [Verse 2 ] I saw him... Leaning in the corner of my vision, eyes like twin eclipse. No pitchfork. No horns. Just a belt. A lighter. And a grin carved from regret. [Bridge – Noise wall + digital stuttering + panic tempo] (Screamed through distortion): CAN’T THINK CAN’T FEEL I WANT TO DIE AND I WANT THE HIGH IN THE SAME FUCKING BREATH ("repeat-repeat-repeat" glitch echo) (Vocoder): Death feels like home. [Calm Break – Piano loop, echoing breaths, faint TV static] (Spoken, almost hopeful): I saw the boy I was. He cried... He begged me to choose the light. But the devil... He danced in the dark, offering silence for the storm in me. [Chorus 2 – More chaotic, layered screams, harmonic dissonance] (Screamed): MY SKIN CRAWLS MY JAW LOCKS EVERY CELL IN ME IS BEGGING FOR DEATH OR DOPE AND I DON’T KNOW WHICH IS WORSE [Glitch Section – Vocals broken into fragments / Reverse samples] “heaven—never there— god—inside the rig— mother—called me—dead— needle—truth—needle—truth—needle—truth—” [Outro] There is no middle road. Only fire... or freezing. But I’m still breathing. Still choosing. For now.