[Intro] (Dissonant, clean guitar melody with a heavy, digital wobble. Sound of an inhaler clicking, followed by a long, wet wheeze.) [Verse 1] (Thall-style syncopated riffs. Heavy, low-tuned chugging.) The air is razor-thin today, like swallowing wet cement. My chest is tight with panic and pain. Copper and fire claw at the throat. I’m chewing on the atmosphere, but my lungs won't. Every breath feels like dry sticks snapping under my ribs. I am choking on my own breathing, And the room is filling with lead. [Pre-Chorus] (Building tension. Speeding up. High-pitched, glitchy guitar screeching.) The panic is a ghost Telling me to lie down and quit fighting. My chest is a cage of fear and stress, Clamping. Crushing. I CAN’T FIND THE AIR. [Chorus] (Wall of sound. Operatic, pained screams.) Oh ASTHMA GIVE ME OXYGEN! The sky is a solid block of static. I’m drowning in a room full of ghosts. And I CAN'T BREATHE! My chest is a vice of burning pressure, And every breath RIPS. APART. [Verse 2] (Glitchy rhythm. Abrupt stops. [Pitch Shift] on the vocals.) [Stop] Blue lips. [Pitch Shift] Cold blue skin. I’m dragging shards of air through a closing throat. A hollow man in a nightmare. Every gasp is a tearing error. [Manic Laughter] [Chorus] (Wall of sound. Operatic, pained screams.) Oh ASTHMA GIVE ME OXYGEN! The sky is a solid block of static. I’m drowning in a room full of ghosts. And I CAN'T BREATHE! My chest is a vice of burning pressure, And every breath RIPS. APART. [Bridge] (Eerie silence. Dissonant whispers. Only a single, low-frequency hum.) [Whispers] (Inhale...) It’s too thin. (Exhale...) It won’t come out. My chest is locked in a panic seizure. I’m staring at the ceiling, waiting for the fear to pass. The inhaler is a plastic god with an empty heart. [Sobbing] Count to ten. One. Two. ...I can't reach three. [Whistle Scream] (A piercing, Kyo-style whistle shriek that transitions into a guttural roar.) [Breakdown] (Extremely slow. Crushing weight. The guitars sound like they are being dragged through glass.) THE AIR HERE IS KILLING ME. MY LUNGS ARE A PRISON. I’M GASPING THROUGH A BROKEN WINDPIPE! BLEGH! (Ultra-heavy, dissonant slam. Pitch shifts down to an inhuman frequency.) [Chorus] (Wall of sound. Operatic, pained screams.) Oh ASTHMA GIVE ME OXYGEN! The sky is a solid block of static. I’m drowning in a room full of ghosts. And I CAN'T BREATHE! My chest is a vice of burning pressure, And every breath RIPS. APART. [Outro] (Fading into digital static and the sound of a heart monitor.) [Spoken Word] (The rhythmic wheezing continues until it suddenly cuts to a flatline tone.) [End]
