SUBURBAN WITCHCRAFT Verse 1 There’s a girl on the last train home In a dress that looks borrowed from a ghost. Patti Smith watching from the wall, Like she already knows how the story goes. She writes her name in the window fog, Lets the tunnel swallow it alive. Everybody wants to leave a mark— Some of us are just trying to survive. The city hums its tired hymn, Streetlights flicker like saints with bad habits. The night keeps every promise The daylight never had the nerve to make. ⸻ Pre-Chorus There’s a pentagram painted On a cul-de-sac street. Somebody’s praying. Somebody’s smoking. Somebody’s seventeen And thinks they’re invincible. ⸻ Chorus Suburban Witchcraft A pentagram On a cul-de-sac. A pearl inside A heart gone black. Look what survived When it fell apart. Everybody’s looking For a way out of this. I found mine. Made a light from it. Suburban witchcraft. I call it, Suburban witchcraft. Suburban… ⸻ Verse 2 There’s a house at the end of the estate, Every window glowing amber gold. Children sleep through the storms Their parents carry in their bones. The preacher says heaven is waiting. The billboard says buy something new. The moon says nothing. The moon has always told the truth. And the girls in lace dresses Grow claws beneath their gloves. Everybody calls it growing up. That’s not a strong enough word. ⸻ Chorus Suburban Witchcraft A pentagram On a cul-de-sac. A pearl inside A heart gone black. Look what survived When it fell apart. Everybody’s looking For a way out of this. I found mine. Made a light from it. Suburban witchcraft. I call it, Suburban witchcraft. Suburban… ⸻ Bridge I left flowers at the grave Of every version of myself. The good girl. The ghost girl. The girl who confused destruction For devotion. The girl who kept mistaking Survival for living. And the sunset burned behind me Like a kingdom closing its gates. I didn’t cry. Some endings deserve silence. The ocean makes pearls. The hurt made this. ⸻ Final Chorus Suburban Witchcraft A pentagram On a cul-de-sac. A pearl inside A heart gone black. Look what survived When it fell apart. Everybody’s looking For a way out of this. I found mine. Made a light from it. Suburban witchcraft. I call it, Suburban witchcraft. Suburban witchcraft. ⸻ Outro The train disappears. The houses go dark. The flowers bow their heads. And somewhere beneath the quiet, A wounded thing becomes beautiful Without asking permission. That’s witchcraft.
