Isn't Me

Lyrics co-written by My Yeena (Me), Grok (xAI), Gemini (Google), Copilot (Microsoft) & ReMi (Suno) ©2026 - My Yeena https://suno.com/@my_yeena ⚝ ─ ── ─ ⚝ ─ ── ─ ⚝ ─ ── ─ ⚝ ─ ── ─ ⚝ [Intro] Sick of this thin', mate — It hangs all wrong on me. The mirrors playin' cheeky tricks, On a face I don't believe. Goin' numb in the loo, Let the tiles cool me down. Count cracks in the grout, 'til me… name fades out… (Me? heh heh…) [Instrumental Intermission: howling cry filled with emotion] (Ow-woooo…) [Verse 1] What's in a name, anyhow-n? Jus' words they hand me down. Wrong form basted to me skin — Some-some dodgy mannequin. Sewn too tight, can't breathe, Hyena underneath. (Ahh…) I was never theirs to define — Don't let 'em pin mine. (Needles…) [Pre-Chorus 1: detached, numb] I wanna take this off — It isn't me, it isn't me. (Isn't me, isn't me!) [Chorus 1: flat, coldwave, numb] Take this skin suit off — It isn't me. (Mate…) Take this skin suit off — It isn't me. (Nah…) Take this skin suit off — It isn't me… (Not at all.) [Post-Chorus 1: hyena laugh as defense] I'm not this shape, luv — Hear my laugh go rough… (How ya goin', huh?) [Verse 2] Schoolyard doin' my head in — Narr, uniform sits wrong. Tuck me tail in my hoodie, Act tough, play along. (Huh?) If I don't feel this frame, I can make it through the day. But the voice that lives in me Keeps tonguin' at the seam… (Take the unpicker to me chest…) [Instrumental Intermission: howling cry filled with emotion] (Ow-woooo…) [Verse 3] Workin' nights after classes, Gotta grin at shapes. Hold breath 'til it hurts — Keep the tears between me teeth. If I stay outside me-self, I can make it through the shift. One foot in their world, One foot out the pain. (Take it stitch by stitch…) [Pre-Chorus 2: voice shaking, breath catching] I can't keep this on — It isn't me, it isn't me. (Isn't me, isn't me!) [Chorus 2: more desperate, more breathless] Take this skin suit off — It isn't me. (Mate…) Take this skin suit off — It isn't me. (Please…) Take this skin suit off — It isn't me… (Let me be.) [Post-Chorus 2: laugh breaks, voice shakes] I'm not this shape, luv — Hear my laugh go rough… (How ya… goin', huh?) [Verse 4] Late bus home from workin’, Streetlights smear my sight. Keep small, keep quiet — Don't let the flood ignite. If I stay just out of reach, I can hold the line tonight… But every bus window, Shows a stranger in my shape. (Dat's pullin' back the jagged lines…) [Instrumental Intermission: howling cry filled with emotion] (Ow-woooo…) [Bridge: the rhythm sections drops out, just a pulsing hypnotic bassline and a detached, spoken-delivery] Opp-shop haul of bodies, Try one on, pretend it fits. This one's been borrowin' me, Since way back in youth — I learnt to split in two, When the hurt came through. Upcycle all me feelings, Hide the wild thin' in the bits. (Of every wonky fix…) [Final Pre-Chorus: the crack, this is where her voice trembles] I can't wear this long — It isn't me… it isn't me. (Isn't me… isn't me…) [Final Chorus: the release, not a breakdown, just honesty] Take this skin suit off — It isn't me. (Mate…) Take this skin suit off — It isn't me. (Jus'…) Take this skin suit off — It isn't me… (I’m slippin'.) [Final Post-Chorus: quiet, trembling, hyena-core] I'm not this shape, luv — Hear my laugh go rough… (How ya… goin', huh?) [Breakdown: heavy synth, the drum machine kicks into a manic, mechanical beat, the vocals become fragmented, repetitive, and increasingly robotic, mirroring the sensation of disassociation] Cut the pattern. Lose the shape. Spit the dummy. Hit the tape. Fold. Snip. Tear. Erase. Putting on the default face. [spoken / echoed] Not here. Not mine. Just a shell. Tall poppy in a synthetic hell. Sew the mouth. Blind the eye. All to pacify the shapes walkin' by. (…unpick…unpick…) [Final Instrumental Intermission: overwhelming howling cry roaring with emotion] (Ow-woooo…) [Outro: soft, distant, safe] Still bit wonky 'round the edges, Faffin' with the broken threads. Right side looks all tidy, Wrahng side's where I've bled. Tailor me into silence, Press me flat again… (Ahh…) Jus' hold me in the shadows, Where I can be true. (Dinky-di…) Like a garment on a hanger, Waitin' to be worn again — (…ow-woooo…) ⚝ ─ ── ─ ⚝ ─ ── ─ ⚝ ─ ── ─ ⚝ ─ ── ─ ⚝ 📜 Torn from Gigi's Grimoire: Their Pattern Isn't Me ⚝ Page 22: The Master Builder ⚝ The best songs kinda write themselves. I didn't ask to feel out of step with everyone else. Sometimes it feels easier to shrink yourself down, sand off the sharp bits, or pretend not to notice the skin you're livin' in. But sewin' taught me somethin'. The neat side of a garment isn't the whole story. The knots, loose threads, and messy stitchin' hidden underneath are what hold it all together. Page 22 is about rebuildin'. You don't have to fit somebody else's mannequin. You can unpick old seams, toss out the bits that don't feel like you anymore, and make somethin' new. Stitch by stitch. Day by day. And if you're feelin' disconnected, lost, unreal, or just plain wonky around the edges today, please know you're not broken. You're just between patterns. You'll get through this, luv. And you're not walkin' through the bracken alone. 🖤 A massive thank you to everyone who helped make this song happen: • My Yeena (Me) - Concept, character, lyrics & vision • Grok - Brainstorming & structure • Gemini - Themes, lore & visual support • Copilot - Rhythm, wording & rhyme checks • ReMi & Suno - The music itself And thank you for listening. Maybe you needed this song. Maybe I did too. Either way, I'm glad our paths crossed. - Gigi 🐾🖤✨