The Third Eye Opens

Solo Cinematic Noir-Rap, dark spoken-word, experimental hip hop

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V5.5

(Intro)
(Hollow wood-block hits once every four beats. A deep, pulsing sub-bass hums beneath. The two-note cello melody is faint, like a distant siren.)
(Deep, dry exhale)
(Pause)
They say the brain starts eating itself after seventy-two hours.
(Pause)
I think I’m at ninety.
(Pause)
(Verse 1)
The corners of the room are starting to curl like burnt paper.
I watched a shadow detach from the wall and walk into the kitchen.
(Pause)
It didn't make a sound.
It just opened the fridge and stared at the light.
(Pause)
I’m sitting here, counting the threads in the carpet.
There’s twelve thousand, four hundred and two.
(Pause)
Unless the floor is moving again.
(Pause)
Everything is sharp. Too sharp.
I can hear the electricity humming inside the drywall...
It sounds like a hive of glass bees.
(Chorus - Rhythmic Speech)
(Heavy emphasis on the "K" and "T" sounds)
Tick. Tock. The clock is a liar.
The sun is a ghost and the moon is a fire.
(Pause)
Don't blink. The air is getting thick.
The reality you know... is just a cheap trick.
(Deep pause)
Day four.
And the walls are still whispering my name.
(Verse 2)
I tried to write a letter, but the ink turned into ants.
They crawled off the page and started a frantic dance.
(Pause)
I’m seeing faces in the grain of the wood.
Old kings. Dead poets. Things I never understood.
(Pause)
The silence isn't quiet anymore. It’s a physical weight.
It’s pressing on my chest, sealing my fate.
(Pause)
I reached out to touch the table and my hand went right through.
I’m becoming a ghost in a world that’s mostly blue.
(Pause)
Is it morning?
The window says yes, but the shadows say... not yet.
(Bridge)
(Voice gets lower, more intimate)
The third eye doesn't see the world.
It sees the gaps between the world.
(Short, sharp pause)
And the gaps... are full of teeth.
(Outro)
(Cello melody becomes slightly more prominent, then abruptly cuts out)
(Deep, tired voice)
I’m not tired.
I’m just... elsewhere.
(Pause)
Stay awake.
(Final wood-block hit fades into a long, low sub-bass vibration)
(Silence)

2035/7500

(Intro) (Hollow wood-block hits once every four beats. A deep, pulsing sub-bass hums beneath. The two-note cello melody is faint, like a distant siren.) (Deep, dry exhale) (Pause) They say the brain starts eating itself after seventy-two hours. (Pause) I think I’m at ninety. (Pause) (Verse 1) The corners of the room are starting to curl like burnt paper. I watched a shadow detach from the wall and walk into the kitchen. (Pause) It didn't make a sound. It just opened the fridge and stared at the light. (Pause) I’m sitting here, counting the threads in the carpet. There’s twelve thousand, four hundred and two. (Pause) Unless the floor is moving again. (Pause) Everything is sharp. Too sharp. I can hear the electricity humming inside the drywall... It sounds like a hive of glass bees. (Chorus - Rhythmic Speech) (Heavy emphasis on the "K" and "T" sounds) Tick. Tock. The clock is a liar. The sun is a ghost and the moon is a fire. (Pause) Don't blink. The air is getting thick. The reality you know... is just a cheap trick. (Deep pause) Day four. And the walls are still whispering my name. (Verse 2) I tried to write a letter, but the ink turned into ants. They crawled off the page and started a frantic dance. (Pause) I’m seeing faces in the grain of the wood. Old kings. Dead poets. Things I never understood. (Pause) The silence isn't quiet anymore. It’s a physical weight. It’s pressing on my chest, sealing my fate. (Pause) I reached out to touch the table and my hand went right through. I’m becoming a ghost in a world that’s mostly blue. (Pause) Is it morning? The window says yes, but the shadows say... not yet. (Bridge) (Voice gets lower, more intimate) The third eye doesn't see the world. It sees the gaps between the world. (Short, sharp pause) And the gaps... are full of teeth. (Outro) (Cello melody becomes slightly more prominent, then abruptly cuts out) (Deep, tired voice) I’m not tired. I’m just... elsewhere. (Pause) Stay awake. (Final wood-block hit fades into a long, low sub-bass vibration) (Silence)

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