© 2025 Irrelin. All rights reserved https://suno.com/@irrelin --- As a child, he once misread a line in a book: “one in a hundred infants don’t survive their first year.” He believed it meant one child must die — and feared it would be him. Decades later, on the eve of his 27th birthday, that old mistake returned, colliding with the myth of the 27 Club. A childhood misunderstanding had grown into an omen he couldn’t shake. --- Under the blanket, a flashlight near It said one in a hundred don’t grow past the year I thought it meant me, I thought it was clear A child’s mistake, but it never disappeared One in a hundred, scratched on the wall One in a hundred, waiting to fall Numbers keep talking under my skin One in a hundred, pulling me in Tomorrow’s a birthday I don’t wanna see Jaws locked on the vein, it’s tightening me It leans on my chest, it burns in my name The closer I get, the heavier it weighs One in a hundred, carved in the stone One in a hundred, cutting the bone Counting the faces, I don’t see a way One in a hundred, don’t let me stay Breath won’t catch, the room caves in Hands won’t hold, I’m breaking again Too close to the turning, too close to the edge Twenty-seven’s a weight I can’t shake One in a hundred, scratched on the wall One in a hundred, waiting to fall Numbers keep talking under my skin One in a hundred, I can’t fight it in One in a hundred… still dragging me here
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