Quite Røømz / Therapy Tree (phølk pHELLøn)

[singer A] Quiet rooms talk loud when the aura get still / all of it’s real, Every “I’m okay” got a buried appeal / story concealed, I don’t carry a weapon but I shoulder the steel / weight that you feel, By the time I get home I’m negotiatin’ faith / closin’ the deal. I can hear what you hide, I can’t hear what you say / fear in the way, Every mask micro-crackin’, peelin’ away / stealin’ the gray, If I stitch every soul, who repairin’ my seams / tearin’ my dreams? Quiet rooms talk loud… louder than screams. [singer A] I sit in a cognitive conflict of calm and the crisis, Where a nod is a promise of silence disguised as compliance, Where the violence is quiet, polite and it’s dressed for the public, And the pain get a makeover just so it can function. You be rehearsin’ your healing, I’m rehearsin’ believin’, We exchange little phrases, savin’ face for a reason, But your hands hold a language your lips never learned, And your eyes keep flickerin’ signals you try to adjourn. [transition] [singer B] After hearin' everybody's misery, I come home and spark a little Therapy Tree, Used to chase money through the streets recklessly, Now I search souls, try to help 'em all breathe. Yeah, Therapy Tree... Got a mind full of stories and a heart full of grief, Carry everybody's burdens till they're too much for me, Then I unwind with a little Therapy Tree. [singer B] Used to get it out the mud with a hustle mentality, Now I'm fightin' inner demons and distorted realities, Sittin' in an office studyin' emotional casualties, Searchin' for the root beneath the visible abnormalities. People see a counselor and think it's easy livin', But they don't hear the pain inside the conversations given, Every session got confessions, every minute got a mission, Tryna help another soul find a reason to keep livin'. [transition] [singer A] I been mapin’ the matrix of pain in a pattern of fractures, Tryna trace every break to the base of the matter, But the deeper I dig I get driftin’ in data, Now I’m holdin’ the weight I was paid to make lighter. Got a professional presence, suppressin’ the pressure, While a war in my chest never lessen, it festers, Every tear that you shed get embedded in memory, Now I’m growin’ your storms in the core of my energy. [singer A] Tick-tick—time twist, mind split, file flip, rapid, Stackin’ the trauma, I catalog, tag it, He talk / she cry / I log / then I lag it— Now I’m loopin’ the data, the damage is static. Click-click—lock-in, boxed-in, oxygen droppin’, Thoughts cross-talkin’, I’m caught in the crosswind, Who saved who? I gave you the map and I lost it, Fix every fracture—my framework is fracturin’ often. [transition] [singer B] Psychoanalysis, behavioral examination, Cognitive reframing mixed with patient validation, Motivational interviews and careful observation, Tryna guide recovery through the fog of devastation. I ain't workin' in the sun with a hammer and a shovel, I'm excavatin' thoughts while they wrestle with their troubles, Searchin' through the shadows where the hidden hurts huddle, Helpin' people navigate the labyrinth of struggle. [singer B] Hypervigilance, empathy accumulation, Secondary trauma from emotional saturation, Constant concentration, crisis intervention, Carryin' heavy stories through every conversation. Mental excavation, Human restoration, Tryna plant hope where there's hopeless devastation, When the day is finally done and my spirit needs vacation, I disappear beneath the stars for a moment's meditation. [transition] [singer A] Quiet rooms talk loud when the light get thin / right within, Every “I’m okay” got a ghost tucked in / both within, I been holdin’ my breath, tryna cope with it / hope it ends, But the weight wear it down till it broke the skin… Yeah, I carry what you bury, I don’t vocalize much, Got a heart full of fractures but I focus it shut, If I heal every soul, is it ever enough? Quiet rooms talk loud… when it’s just us. [singer B] After hearin' everybody's misery, I come home and spark a little Therapy Tree, Not to run away from life or reality, Just to set down all the weight that was entrusted to me. Yeah, Therapy Tree... From the hollers to degrees, From the hustle to a purpose, From the streets to helping people find some peace. [singer A] Same chair. Same echo. …still listenin’.