[Intro] [distorted synth bass enters, record scratch] [lo-fi crushed snare] [Verse 1] [distorted male vocals] Welcome to the Devils Echo Chamber [metallic foley texture] [dissonant synth stab] Welcome to the Devils Echo Chamber Little Brother's Gun I am the one I am the one [record scratch] [Verse 1] Walls got a pulse, yeah they breathe when I’m still Every whisper bounce back sharper than steel I said one word now it’s split into six Each one distorted, each one equipped Room full of voices but none of them mine They move out of sync but they talk in my time I cover my ears but they crawl up my spine Repeating the parts that I tried to confine The floor got patterns that shift when I stare Footsteps loop but nobody there I walk in a circle, return to the chair Same exact moment just stripped and repaired [Hook - hypnotic, eerie] Echo… echo… nothing comes back clean Every thought stretched through a broken machine Echo… echo… trapped in between Say it once… now it’s never what it means [Verse 2] Cold light flicker like it’s losing control Shadows detach then they move on their own I write on the wall but it rewrites the tone Turn back around and it’s no longer known My name got twisted, dissolved into sound Now it’s just fragments that circle around Each one repeating, but slower, more drowned Like something beneath is pulling it down Hands on my head but the pressure don’t stop Thoughts overlap till they blur and they rot I try to be silent, the silence gets loud Now even the quiet is screaming too proud [Bridge - warped / experimental] Split the signal… stretch it thin… Layer it under the skin within… Every echo breeds again… No exit… no origin… [Verse 3] Time don’t pass, it just folds in place Moments stack up till they cover your face You try to escape but it mirrors your pace Every direction just leads to the same I said I’m fine and it multiplied wrong Now it’s a chant that keeps dragging along Low in the walls like a mechanical song Pulling me deeper the longer it’s on I close my eyes but the room still there Built from the sound of recycled air Every last thought just stripped and shared Nothing left that ain’t been compared [Outro - fading, recursive whisper] …say it again… …again… …again… … [Outro] [digital clipping on kick drum] [synth bass fades out] [record scratch]
