[INTRO] (The track opens with a low, vibrating acoustic bass note that hums like an empty highway) (A faint, distant metallic chime echoes once and fades out) (Low, weary female voice—speaking right against the microphone capsule:) They hand you down like a piece of used property before you're even old enough to speak. Then they wonder why you don't talk to outsiders. You spend your whole life building one clean thing of your own... Just to watch the vultures tear the flesh off it while the law watches. Let them hear what the silence actually feels like. [VERSE 1] (A slow, heavy wood-box thud kicks in, sounding like a boot dragging through dirt) There's a specific kind of cold when your own blood gives you away Leaving you to navigate the minefield every single damn day You grow up learning sign language just to keep the circle tight Because the people paid to guard you are the ones who trigger fright You walk down the school hallway with your head tucked in your chest Surrounded by a crowd of fakes who claim they know you best They look right through your eyes like you're a decoration on a shelf While you’re standing in the corner trying to repossess yourself They swipe your face, they swipe your clothes, they trade your name for clout And you're screaming in the engine but there's nothing coming out. [CHORUS] (The steel guitar bleeds in with a long, agonizingly slow, weeping slide) WELCOME TO THE COLD ROOM WHERE THE COPE IS AUTOMATIC WHERE EVERY SINGLE FRIEND YOU HAVE IS JUST SYSTEMIC STATIC I’M STANDING RIGHT IN FRONT OF YOU, BLEEDING THROUGH THE GLASS WATCHING THE ILLUSION FALL WATCHING THE SECONDS PASS. [VERSE 2] (The acoustic guitar grows more sparse, leaving massive gaps of silence between the strums) The bullies run the front row while the teachers look away They push you through the window just to see what you will say You watch your sister character get shattered on the floor While the trolls are laughing demons right outside the locker door They take the custom boots you made, the ones that took your sweat And they turn them to a playground joke to cover up their debt But the jawline unlocks quiet when the pressure gets too deep And the property you stole is a curse you're gonna keep The chalk line's on the pavement and the numbers start to climb But you can't revive a heartbeat that you broke before its time. [OUTRO] (The slow boot-thud stops completely. Only a fragile, single guitar string is plucked) (The voice drops to a flat, breathless whisper) You never saw the smile... Because there never was one. Turn the engine off. (The guitar string is choked out instantly by a hand gripping the fretboard) (Absolute dead air)
