Grimoire of the Godless

[Intro – low, uncertain, like reading from a notebook] “I started writing things down… patterns, symbols… anything that made sense. Thought if I could name it… I could stop it.” --- [Verse 1] Chalk lines drawn but they don’t mean much, I just trace what I feel but I don’t know what, Every word I write don’t line up right— Like I’m copyin’ somethin’ I don’t quite trust. Ink runs black where the thoughts don’t stay, Try to pin it down but it slips away, Every symbol look like it almost fits— But it breaks apart when I try to say it. Mind like a room where the walls don’t hold, Every thought I keep just turns to code, I write it down like it’s somethin’ real— But I don’t even know what I’m tryin’ to show. --- [Hook] No light in the room when I try to name it, No shape to the thought, I can’t contain it, No face in the glass, but I still feel it— This ain’t gone… I just can’t explain it. --- [Verse 2] I repeat what I wrote but it don’t translate, Same lines come back in a different way, Like I’m followin’ rules that I never learned— But they still feel right when I disobey. Every mark that I make feels close to truth, But it shifts when I try to get a clear view, Like it wants to be seen but not understood— So I keep writin’ more just to break it through. I don’t know if it’s me or somethin’ else, Every thought feel like it came from somewhere else, I just build these patterns to hold it still— But they don’t hold nothin’, they just rebuild. --- [Bridge – female voice, calm, intrusive] “It doesn’t need meaning…” “You just gave it one…” “It was never meant to be understood…” --- [Verse 3] Pages fill up but it don’t feel right, Every line I write just splits in time, I thought if I mapped it, I’d find the shape— But it don’t have form, it just takes mine. Now I read it back and it don’t feel mine, Like I wrote it once in a different mind, Every answer I thought I almost had— Turn to somethin’ else every single time. --- [Hook – quieter, uncertain] No light in the room when I try to name it, No shape to the thought, I can’t contain it, No face in the glass, but I still feel it— This ain’t gone… I just can’t explain it. --- [Outro – female voice, clinical, controlled] “Subject attempting… structured interpretation. Pattern recognition present. Meaning… not required. …continue observation.”