Normal people scare me by IamCulberto

Normal People Scare Me

[Intro, muffled party chatter, detuned piano, a glass clinks]

So, what do you do?

What do I do?

Yeah, like… for work.

Oh.

Right.

I usually just say something
and hope the conversation dies naturally.

[Beat enters, crooked piano loop, dusty drums]

[Verse 1, lazy conversational delivery]

Walk in the room, immediately forget how to stand,
Everybody shaking hands like they rehearsed in advance,
There’s a guy telling stories with his whole upper body,
And a woman laughing so hard at a joke that wasn’t funny.

I got three conversation starters folded up in my brain,
One’s about the weather, one’s about the traffic and rain,
One’s a question about their job that I don’t wanna know,
But I ask it anyway, now we’re discussing payroll.

Somebody says, how you been? I say, pretty good,
Which is technically a lie, but it’s socially understood,
They say, we should hang sometime, I say, absolutely,
Now we’re both contractually obligated to avoid each other beautifully.

I watch people talk, trying to figure out the trick,
When to look away, when to nod, when to laugh a little bit,
How long can you hold eye contact before it gets intense?
How short can you make a goodbye without causing an offense?

I got a face for every setting, got a laugh for every room,
Got a whole damn personality that I assemble on the move,
And the strangest part is nobody seems to think it’s odd,
Like we’re all wearing invisible uniforms and calling it God.

[Beat drops, bass guitar distorts, snare hits harder]

[Verse 2, sharper delivery, increasingly animated]

There’s a man at the party who won’t stop saying networking,
He calls everybody brother while he’s mentally determining
What they do, who they know, what their contacts might be worth,
He’d sell his own reflection if it came with a little extra growth.

There’s a couple doing great, they make sure that everybody knows,
They’ve got matching little smiles and coordinated little clothes,
They’ve been fighting in the car since they left their driveway,
Now they’re posting about gratitude before the end of Friday.

There’s a guy who says he’s brutally honest, which means
He says some awful shit and blames it on his honesty,
There’s a woman selling wellness, says her boundaries are strong,
Then spends an hour explaining why her ex was always wrong.

Everybody’s got a script, everybody’s got a role,
The funny one, the smart one, the one who’s in control,
The guy who tells you everything, the guy who never shares,
The guy who says he doesn’t care while checking if you care.

And I’m standing by the kitchen trying not to look strange,
Holding one warm beer I don’t even want to drink,
Somebody asks what music I like, I forget every song,
Say, a little bit of everything, then wonder what went wrong.

[Hook, shouted doubles over crunchy drums]

NORMAL PEOPLE SCARE ME!

WHAT THE FUCK’S THE PROTOCOL?

WHEN DO I LAUGH?

WHEN DO I LEAVE?

IS THERE A HANDBOOK?

DID I MISS THE CALL?

I LEARNED HOW TO ACT LIKE I’M HAVING A GOOD TIME,

NOW I CAN’T REMEMBER IF I’M HAVING ONE AT ALL!

[Beat abruptly cuts]

[Spoken, close-mic]

That was a pretty good hook.

Don’t say that out loud.

[Beat returns with warped keyboard melody]

[Verse 3, more intimate, dry delivery]

I practice phone calls like I’m preparing for court,
Write down what I need, then forget what I called for,
The person says, how are you? I say, fine, how are you?
Now we’re both exchanging lies that neither one can prove.

I can spend the whole ride home reviewing what I said,
Find a weird little sentence, give it housing in my head,
Build a courtroom around it, call the witnesses to speak,
Convict myself of being awkward for the next two fucking weeks.

I remember every pause, every look that went astray,
Every time I talked too much, every word I didn’t say,
Meanwhile, the other person probably hasn’t thought about it once,
They’re at home watching television, eating something out of a cup.

And that’s the bit that gets me, that’s the part I can’t explain,
I’m a supporting character in somebody else’s day,
Every stranger that I pass has got a whole world in their head,
Their own embarrassing memories keeping them awake in bed.

Maybe that guy wasn’t arrogant, maybe he’s just scared,
Maybe all that constant talking means he’s terrified of silence,
Maybe she wasn’t being rude, maybe she’s exhausted,
Maybe we’re all just trying to get through the day without getting noticed.

[Bridge, beat strips down to detuned piano and faint room tone]

I used to think that everybody else knew something I didn’t.

Some secret instruction.

Some invisible line between being yourself
and being somebody people can tolerate.

Then I started paying attention.

Everybody’s checking their phone.
Everybody’s worried about their weight.
Everybody’s wondering if they said too much.

Everybody’s pretending not to be nervous.

And somehow we’re all pretending alone
in a room full of people doing the exact same thing.

[Brief silence]

That’s a

5000/7500

Normal People Scare Me [Intro, muffled party chatter, detuned piano, a glass clinks] So, what do you do? What do I do? Yeah, like… for work. Oh. Right. I usually just say something and hope the conversation dies naturally. [Beat enters, crooked piano loop, dusty drums] [Verse 1, lazy conversational delivery] Walk in the room, immediately forget how to stand, Everybody shaking hands like they rehearsed in advance, There’s a guy telling stories with his whole upper body, And a woman laughing so hard at a joke that wasn’t funny. I got three conversation starters folded up in my brain, One’s about the weather, one’s about the traffic and rain, One’s a question about their job that I don’t wanna know, But I ask it anyway, now we’re discussing payroll. Somebody says, how you been? I say, pretty good, Which is technically a lie, but it’s socially understood, They say, we should hang sometime, I say, absolutely, Now we’re both contractually obligated to avoid each other beautifully. I watch people talk, trying to figure out the trick, When to look away, when to nod, when to laugh a little bit, How long can you hold eye contact before it gets intense? How short can you make a goodbye without causing an offense? I got a face for every setting, got a laugh for every room, Got a whole damn personality that I assemble on the move, And the strangest part is nobody seems to think it’s odd, Like we’re all wearing invisible uniforms and calling it God. [Beat drops, bass guitar distorts, snare hits harder] [Verse 2, sharper delivery, increasingly animated] There’s a man at the party who won’t stop saying networking, He calls everybody brother while he’s mentally determining What they do, who they know, what their contacts might be worth, He’d sell his own reflection if it came with a little extra growth. There’s a couple doing great, they make sure that everybody knows, They’ve got matching little smiles and coordinated little clothes, They’ve been fighting in the car since they left their driveway, Now they’re posting about gratitude before the end of Friday. There’s a guy who says he’s brutally honest, which means He says some awful shit and blames it on his honesty, There’s a woman selling wellness, says her boundaries are strong, Then spends an hour explaining why her ex was always wrong. Everybody’s got a script, everybody’s got a role, The funny one, the smart one, the one who’s in control, The guy who tells you everything, the guy who never shares, The guy who says he doesn’t care while checking if you care. And I’m standing by the kitchen trying not to look strange, Holding one warm beer I don’t even want to drink, Somebody asks what music I like, I forget every song, Say, a little bit of everything, then wonder what went wrong. [Hook, shouted doubles over crunchy drums] NORMAL PEOPLE SCARE ME! WHAT THE FUCK’S THE PROTOCOL? WHEN DO I LAUGH? WHEN DO I LEAVE? IS THERE A HANDBOOK? DID I MISS THE CALL? I LEARNED HOW TO ACT LIKE I’M HAVING A GOOD TIME, NOW I CAN’T REMEMBER IF I’M HAVING ONE AT ALL! [Beat abruptly cuts] [Spoken, close-mic] That was a pretty good hook. Don’t say that out loud. [Beat returns with warped keyboard melody] [Verse 3, more intimate, dry delivery] I practice phone calls like I’m preparing for court, Write down what I need, then forget what I called for, The person says, how are you? I say, fine, how are you? Now we’re both exchanging lies that neither one can prove. I can spend the whole ride home reviewing what I said, Find a weird little sentence, give it housing in my head, Build a courtroom around it, call the witnesses to speak, Convict myself of being awkward for the next two fucking weeks. I remember every pause, every look that went astray, Every time I talked too much, every word I didn’t say, Meanwhile, the other person probably hasn’t thought about it once, They’re at home watching television, eating something out of a cup. And that’s the bit that gets me, that’s the part I can’t explain, I’m a supporting character in somebody else’s day, Every stranger that I pass has got a whole world in their head, Their own embarrassing memories keeping them awake in bed. Maybe that guy wasn’t arrogant, maybe he’s just scared, Maybe all that constant talking means he’s terrified of silence, Maybe she wasn’t being rude, maybe she’s exhausted, Maybe we’re all just trying to get through the day without getting noticed. [Bridge, beat strips down to detuned piano and faint room tone] I used to think that everybody else knew something I didn’t. Some secret instruction. Some invisible line between being yourself and being somebody people can tolerate. Then I started paying attention. Everybody’s checking their phone. Everybody’s worried about their weight. Everybody’s wondering if they said too much. Everybody’s pretending not to be nervous. And somehow we’re all pretending alone in a room full of people doing the exact same thing. [Brief silence] That’s a

0/500