How about getting closer?

Post-punk spoken word, cold drum machine, chorus bass, sparse guitar stabs, dark ambient synths, glitchy noise, moody, sardonic vocals, slow tempo (~85 BPM), minimalistic, tension

[Intro instrumental — cold, minimal beat, dark drone]

[Chorus]
How about getting closer? Come closer — don’t you run.  
I watch you stumble, flinch, pretend — it’s fun.  
Your circus makes me grin, your mess makes me spin,  
How about getting closer? Step in — let me pull you in.

[Verse 1]
I don’t bet chips, don’t envy, don’t compete,  
My mind’s my own — no neighbor’s cow to bleed.  
I love when my truth cuts your nonsense like a knife,  
Deny it once — I’ll drag you out, or watch you drown in strife.

I know just how much keeps city life alright,  
But woods would feed me if I drop from sight.  
I trust myself to shrink my needs to fit the fight,  
No flag above my bed — no pride at night.

[instrumental break]

[Verse 2]
I stand alone — no anthem, no regret,  
I know trust and care — but passion’s just lust’s duet.  
I smoke — I quit — twelve years pulled me back,  
No needles, joints few — no crack.  
I drink to taste, not drown my head in black.

I draw my lines — “My Other Own” and “Other Stray,”  
The first get rope, my hand, my stay.  
The second — let them chew dust and sand.  
Who cares how many in strange hats lost their curl,  
Or how high a scarfed-up bomb made ashes swirl?  
How many trend-chasers scorched in hellish flame?  
Their kin might cry — for the rest it’s a game.  
All righteous noise — fake tears they sell,  
I see double masks — I know that smell.

[instrumental break]

[Verse 3]
A woman’s never been some prize to chase,  
She’s function — honest terms, no velvet lace:  
A bedmate skilled, a mind to spark my night,  
A badge to show I’m trimmed up right,  
And if I breed — a cradle by my side.  
The rest? Factory bloat they try to hide.  
Find all in one? Rare glitch to see —  
Most call such women faulty circuitry.

They speak in fog but ache for what’s unclear —  
No word for want, but rage is near.  
Flowers, dinners, cash, my space, my skin —  
They lean on my fence — I guard my land within.

Pro sport’s a pension plan — wheelchairs, pills,  
Amateurs flex for likes and thrills.  
I have no excess weight — all useful still,  
Down to last gram — my bulk obeys my will.  
Oink — I live for me, my hunger, my fill.

I watch you through the window’s crosshair frame,  
The monitor’s collimator — my aim.  
When shame floods in — I share your breed, your sin,  
It wakes the beast that loads my words within.  
I fire short bursts — bullets hit gut and head,  
Aimed at hearts — but bounce off your skin instead.  
Maybe your hide’s too thick to feel my bite —  
Pity my bullets never scratch your skin right.

[instrumental break]

[Outro instrumental — dark ambient fade, cold drone, heartbeat echo]

2666/7500

[Intro instrumental — cold, minimal beat, dark drone] [Chorus] How about getting closer? Come closer — don’t you run. I watch you stumble, flinch, pretend — it’s fun. Your circus makes me grin, your mess makes me spin, How about getting closer? Step in — let me pull you in. [Verse 1] I don’t bet chips, don’t envy, don’t compete, My mind’s my own — no neighbor’s cow to bleed. I love when my truth cuts your nonsense like a knife, Deny it once — I’ll drag you out, or watch you drown in strife. I know just how much keeps city life alright, But woods would feed me if I drop from sight. I trust myself to shrink my needs to fit the fight, No flag above my bed — no pride at night. [instrumental break] [Verse 2] I stand alone — no anthem, no regret, I know trust and care — but passion’s just lust’s duet. I smoke — I quit — twelve years pulled me back, No needles, joints few — no crack. I drink to taste, not drown my head in black. I draw my lines — “My Other Own” and “Other Stray,” The first get rope, my hand, my stay. The second — let them chew dust and sand. Who cares how many in strange hats lost their curl, Or how high a scarfed-up bomb made ashes swirl? How many trend-chasers scorched in hellish flame? Their kin might cry — for the rest it’s a game. All righteous noise — fake tears they sell, I see double masks — I know that smell. [instrumental break] [Verse 3] A woman’s never been some prize to chase, She’s function — honest terms, no velvet lace: A bedmate skilled, a mind to spark my night, A badge to show I’m trimmed up right, And if I breed — a cradle by my side. The rest? Factory bloat they try to hide. Find all in one? Rare glitch to see — Most call such women faulty circuitry. They speak in fog but ache for what’s unclear — No word for want, but rage is near. Flowers, dinners, cash, my space, my skin — They lean on my fence — I guard my land within. Pro sport’s a pension plan — wheelchairs, pills, Amateurs flex for likes and thrills. I have no excess weight — all useful still, Down to last gram — my bulk obeys my will. Oink — I live for me, my hunger, my fill. I watch you through the window’s crosshair frame, The monitor’s collimator — my aim. When shame floods in — I share your breed, your sin, It wakes the beast that loads my words within. I fire short bursts — bullets hit gut and head, Aimed at hearts — but bounce off your skin instead. Maybe your hide’s too thick to feel my bite — Pity my bullets never scratch your skin right. [instrumental break] [Outro instrumental — dark ambient fade, cold drone, heartbeat echo]

0/500