(Music begins with a somber, lofi indie rock vibe: a simple, clean electric guitar riff, sparse piano notes, a slow drum beat.) (Verse 1) Hallway canyon. I'm at the bottom. Their laughter echoes. My heart? A shotgun. Spitball art on my back. A shove. "Oops, my bad." I count the floor cracks. Clock ticks. Feeling so sad. Just for being afraid. (Chorus) And I hate you, I hate you, I swear that I do For the names that you call me, the things that you do But God, what I’d give for a seat at your table To be in the joke, to be stable, to be able To wear the right jeans and to say the right thing Instead of this hollow, tight-coil-of-spring This ghost in the hallway, this stain on the air… Do you even see me? Do you even care? (Verse 2) Catalog my defects. My voice, my vibe, "weird." A self-fulfilling prophecy, fueled by the fear. Maybe they're right. Maybe I'm the flaw. The cause of the whisper, the point of the claw. I pre-edit my words in this too-loud crowd. A prisoner, screaming inside, but not out loud. (Chorus) And I hate you, I hate you, I swear that I do For the whispers that follow me into the loo But God, what I’d give for a nod of inclusion A break from this constant, self-conscious confusion To not have to calculate every step that I take Or wonder which lunchroom decision to make This ghost in the hallway, this knot in my chest… Is this some kind of test? Am I less than the rest? (Verse 3 - Reflective, music softens) The teacher asks, "What did you learn in school today?" I learned the rules of how to fade away. To brace for impact, to memorize shame. I learned that "teenage life" is just a brand name For a war inside a hallway, fought in quiet and dread. What did I learn? I learned to wish I was dead. So don't preach from your desk, from a distant, old life. You don't know, don't understand this daily strife. (Bridge) I fantasize. Table-top stand. Yell my name. They'd all see me. Feel my fame. Bell rings. Just a dream. Back to the grind. I make myself paper—thin, easy to find. Paper can't feel when it's crumpled, tossed. But I'm not paper. I'm just lost. (Chorus - Music swells, more anguished) And I hate you, I hate you, I SWEAR that I do! But I hate me more for needing you to For wanting your world that’s so shallow and cruel For still being stuck here, your favorite fool This ghost in the hallway… but ghosts don’t bleed And ghosts don’t plant nightmares from every mean seed This stain on the air with a heartbeat, a name… One day I’ll be gone. Will you feel any shame? (Chorus - Defiant, clear-eyed) And I hated you. I swear that I did. For every cruel game, for every thing that you hid. But I'm done being your ghost in the hallway, your jest, Done carrying this permanent knot in my chest. I'm erasing the names, I'm unlearning the rules, I'm not begging a seat at the table of fools. This shadow you made? I'm stepping into the light. Enough. I am done with this fight. (Outro) (Music collapses back to the quiet, repeating guitar riff and soft piano, now feeling more spacious, less heavy) My backpack's still heavy with books and what's past. But the ceiling tiles? Just tiles. Not a cage meant to last. They say these are the best years… a golden, bright youth… If that is the truth, then I'm finding my proof. (Final chord hangs, clearer now, then fades to silence.
