[INTRO] (I miss myself) (In the noise) I didn’t lose me in a quiet house. I lost me in the nights I couldn’t count. [VERSE 1] Neon on my face, but it feels too bright. Every joke I tell doesn’t land right. Friends talk loud, but it sounds off‑key. I’m the main act here, but it’s not me. Phone in my hand like a second skin. Scroll through clips I don’t remember being in. Same smile, same angle, same staged pose. Different eyes behind it, nobody knows. (Click—cut—breathe) [PRE-CHORUS] I used to feel songs in my lungs, not my feed. Now I chase every drop like it’s something I need. One more rise and I lose control. If this isn’t me, then who’s in this role? (three… two…) [GLITCHY DROP] Bass swells, old ghosts in the reverb tail. Half‑chopped “I miss— I miss—” on the rail. Pads duck hard under stuttering snares. Lead line bends like a memory in flares. (no words, just fragments) [VERSE 2] Bathroom mirror with the blue light tint. Mascara / sweat, little streak, faint print. Someone knocks, says “you killed it out there”. I mouth “thank you”, but there’s nobody here. Shoes off, tiles cold under both my feet. Heart still raving to a distant beat. I see the kid who danced with no one watching. I see the cut where I started cropping. (Glitch—glow—again) [PRE-CHORUS 2] I used to sing wrong, but it felt so right. Now I tune every note till it loses its bite. One more rise and I lose control. If this is the show, then where is my soul? (three… two… let it break) [SECOND DROP – HEAVIER] Choir swells low like a crowd in prayer. Vox chop: “who are you?” in the snare. Side‑chained pads breathe in and out. Lead cries high over waves of doubt. [BRIDGE] Cut the lows, let my heartbeat speak. Turn the lights down till the room feels weak. Peel the layers off, one by one. See what’s left when the filters are done. (soft whisper: “still here”) [FINAL PRE-CHORUS] I don’t wanna live as a highlight reel. I want the quiet frame where the bruises heal. If the beat cuts out and the crowd moves on, I’ll stay behind to find where I’ve gone. [OUTRO HOOK – SHORT, LOOPABLE] I miss myself in the break of a song. In the first off‑beat where I felt wrong. If the noise dies down and I’m left alone, I hope the next drop leads me back home. (I miss myself—myself—my‑my‑self)
