(Vessel – raw, no filter. Piano, violin, cello only) [Intro – Piano, one cracked low C, bleeding] (No beat. Just a dying pulse.) [Verse 1 – Cello saws like bone on bone] I glued the grin on with my own blood, Dad’s belt left verses carved in welts. Mom said “man up” while I pissed the sink red, Worked three graves so the lights wouldn’t die. Fridge empty, love emptier, Cousins prayed emojis then left me on read. I begged for a rope, got memes and a shrug, Mirror showed a corpse wearing my face. [Pre-Chorus – Violin scrapes, strings scream] Porcelain weighs more when it’s fused to the skull, Every “you’re fine” another brick in the wall. [Chorus – All three hit like fists] I tore the fucking mask off, Let the shards rip my palms to the tendons. House gone, name gone, future I rented. Dropped through the floor of the lie I was living, And the quiet finally roared my name. I’m nothing now, And nothing burns clean. [Verse 2 – Piano, sparse, knuckles on keys] They sent flowers to the man I murdered, Set a plate for the ghost at Thanksgiving. I talked to the version they could stomach, Till the glass in my throat started singing. So I smashed the reflection with my fist, Watched the blood spell “you’re free” on the tiles. [Pre-Chorus – Violin bends until it snaps] The pieces cut deeper than any praise, But the pain tasted like oxygen. [Chorus – Louder, cello growls] I tore the fucking mask off, Let the shards rip my palms to the tendons. House gone, name gone, future I rented. Dropped through the floor of the lie I was living, And the quiet finally roared my name. I’m nothing now, And nothing burns clean. [Bridge – Instruments fall to a whisper; Vessel spits blood] (Piano: one chord, pedal stuck) Still hear them in my teeth— “Hold it together, don’t bleed on the carpet.” But the cage is rust and the sky is on fire, I’d rather rot real than live plastic. (Violin: slow, wet sob of a gliss) Let me bleed out loud. [Final Chorus – Everything cracks open] I TORE THE FUCKING MASK OFF! Let the shards write my name in the dirt. No script, no stage, no rehearsed hurt. Stood in the ruin of the man I played, And the wind howled “you’re awake.” I’m nothing now, And nothing fits like a grave I dug myself. [Outro – Cello holds a cracked low C, piano slams once… silence] (Vessel, voice shredded) Still here… Still here… (Last note dies. Tape hiss. Flatline.)
