[Verse 1 – whispered, trembling] I wake in the outline you left on the sheets, a silhouette stitched from the smoke of your name. The mirror shows a man wearing my face, but the eyes belong to someone already gone. Every breath is a confession to the devils that learned how to sing in my lungs. They hum your absence in minor keys, and I can’t tell the difference between the prayer and the scream. ⸻ [Pre-Chorus – breathy, tightening] Say it. Say the fracture was mutual. Or let the silence finish the sentence the way you always did. ⸻ [Chorus – soaring, desperate] I’m kneeling in a godless choir, voice on fire, begging the dark for a mercy it swallowed whole. Demons wear your mouth when they speak, and every word is a blade in the wound you keep open. I call your name to the rafters— it falls back broken, a hymn no altar ever wanted. You don’t hear me. You never did. ⸻ [Verse 2 – confessional, cracked] There’s a cathedral inside my skull, vaulted ceilings dripping with regret, no candles, no saints— just the echo of footsteps that stopped walking toward me. I built you an altar of every “I’m sorry,” but the marble cracked the first time I bled on it. Now the devils kneel too, mocking my devotion with tongues made of static and goodbye. ⸻ [Pre-Chorus – strained, larynx-shredding] Tell me— did you taste the ruin on my lips? Or was I just another quiet noise you tuned out? ⸻ [Chorus – explosive, chest-ripping] I’m screaming in a godless choir, lungs on fire, offering the burning parts of me to a ghost who never asked. The demons dance in the hollow you left, wearing your smile like a crown of thorns. I drown in the echo of a holy theft— trying to convince the dark there’s still a reason to stay alive. But you don’t hear me. You never did. ⸻ [Bridge – slow, ritualistic, Vessel-like] Maybe this is worship: to let the devils write scripture on my ribs, to choke on the hope you’d turn around, to bleed myself clean on an altar that was never yours to save. I would’ve torn my heart out and called it communion if you’d only said the word. But the word never came. So I stay, a congregation of one, singing to the silence until the silence sings back. ⸻ [Final Chorus – catastrophic, emotional collapse] So I burn in this godless choir, soul on fire, calling out to a love that clawed its way out of my chest. If devotion is a coffin, then lower me in— let the darkness begin. I’ve already learned how to rot in your name. The demons applaud. They sound just like you. You don’t hear me. You don’t feel me. You never did.
