📝 Full Lyrics (Intro — single, steady piano note repeating; soft static hum underneath, slowly building, like pressure rising. No melody at first. Just pulse. Just noise. Just existing.) Verse 1 Everything is too loud. Too bright. Too much. The hum of the fridge screams in my ears. Fluorescent lights buzz like a thousand angry bees. People talk all at once — words crash into each other — I can’t pick one apart. I can’t breathe. They say “just be normal” — like it’s a switch. Like I’m not already being me, at maximum volume, Just trying not to shatter into pieces. My skin feels too tight. Clothes are made of sandpaper. Every texture is a fight. Every second is work. Pre-Chorus I wear the mask. I smile when I’m supposed to. I nod at the right times. I practise the lines. On the outside — calm. Polite. Fine. On the inside — static. Fire. A thousand alarms going off all at once. [Chorus — voice tight, overwhelmed, like speaking takes every ounce of energy] THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE. TO BE BORN WITH THE VOLUME TURNED ALL THE WAY UP, AND NO OFF SWITCH. TO FEEL EVERYTHING SO MUCH DEEPER THAN YOU EVER WILL. TO THINK IN PATTERNS, NOT IN WORDS. TO LONG FOR CONNECTION BUT FEAR THE TOUCH. I’M NOT BROKEN. I’M NOT WEIRD. I’M JUST WIRED DIFFERENTLY. AND THE WORLD IS TOO LOUD FOR MY QUIET BRAIN. Verse 2 I don’t get the jokes. Not the ones you say. I get the ones no one says — the ones in the silence. I see the tiny things you never notice: The way the light hits the floor at 4pm exactly. The rhythm of the rain — it has a beat, always. Numbers are friends. Patterns are safe. Repetition isn’t boring — it’s the only thing that holds the world together. When everything else shifts and changes and scares me — The sameness is home. You call it “stimming” — I call it breathing. It’s how I ground myself so I don’t float away. Pre-Chorus I force eye contact — it feels like staring into the sun. I count the seconds until I can go home. To the dark. To the quiet. To the things I know. Where I don’t have to translate myself into human. Where I can just… be. (Chorus — rawer, more urgent, like the pressure’s building) THIS IS WHAT IT FEELS LIKE. TO BE TOO SENSITIVE, TOO LOUD INSIDE, TOO QUIET OUTSIDE. TO UNDERSTAND THE WORLD BUT NEVER BELONG IN IT. TO LOVE SO FIERCELY IT HURTS, BUT NOT KNOW HOW TO SAY IT. I’M NOT TRYING TO BE DIFFICULT. I’M TRYING TO SURVIVE. EVERY SINGLE DAY IS A BATTLE NO ONE SEES. AND I FIGHT IT QUIETLY. EVERY TIME. Bridge —( piano softens, static fades. Voice drops, vulnerable, honest, almost relieved) Sometimes I wish I could turn it off. Feel less. See less. Hear less. But then — I wouldn’t feel the music the way I do. I wouldn’t see the colours so vivid they burn. I wouldn’t love the people I love with every single cell in my body. It’s a double-edged sword. I feel everything. All of it. Always. The beauty and the pain — equal parts. It’s exhausting. It’s beautiful. It’s me. Chorus —( softer, calmer, quieter, finding peace in the truth) This is what it feels like. Not a disease. Not a flaw. Just… me. Too much. Not enough. Exactly right. I’m not broken. I don’t need to be fixed. I just need you to meet me where I am. In the quiet. In the patterns. In the space between words. I’m here. I see you. I’m trying. (Outro — piano fades to single, steady note. Static softens to silence. Voice, barely a whisper.) …just let me be me. Please. (Note lingers, then fades. Quiet. Peaceful.)
