Basement Gospel III

[Intro – Calm, distorted, almost welcoming] “This is not the second sermon… That one didn’t take. They said try again… So I did.” --- [Verse 1] White walls talk but they don’t say much, Clipboards watch, yeah they note too much, Every word I drop get broke, then touched, Then they hand it back like it don’t mean much. Said I’m “stable” but they lock that door, Smile too wide when I ask what for, Every session feel like déjà vu— Same four walls, same version of you. They keep sayin’ names like it fits my face, Tryna pin me down in a labelled space, But I peeled that off, now it don’t sit right, Now the mirror talk back when I dim the lights. They said “break bad,” I think I broke before, Now they study the shift like they planned the course, Write it all down like it’s somethin’ new— But I seen this page… and I lived it too. --- [Hook] This that basement gospel, version three, They keep changin’ words but it’s still just me, Tried bottle the thought, tried cage the sound— Now it echo back when there’s no one around. This that basement gospel, calm and wrong, Where the silence hit but it last too long, No cure here, no fix, no plea— Just a voice that learned how to disagree. --- [Verse 2] Mask stay fixed, I don’t feel what they say, Call it Fawkes, call it nothin’ either way, They want truth, I just give ‘em delay, Every answer I got start driftin’ away. Got compounds in my head they can’t name or trace, Labels scratched off, still react the same, Every thought break down but it don’t erase, Like a formula loopin’ I can’t rearrange. They said “science can fix what you can’t control,” Tried to balance my mind like a chemical code, But I stepped out the room feelin’ less than whole— Like I changed one part and it swallowed the whole. They said “progress,” I just nodded along, But the clock run back when I write these songs, Every line feel wrong in a familiar way, Like I lived this once… then it slipped away. --- [Hook] This that basement gospel, version three, They keep changin’ words but it’s still just me, Tried bottle the thought, tried cage the sound— Now it echo back when there’s no one around. This that basement gospel, calm and wrong, Where the silence hit but it last too long, No cure here, no fix, no plea— Just a voice that learned how to disagree. --- [Verse 3 – Fractured, slipping] I don’t think they hear what I’m sayin’ now, Mouth still move but it ain’t my sound, Hands feel off like they not my own, Write my name down wrong in my tone. They repeat what I said like it came from them, Then they ask me why I don’t trust again, I seen that script, I don’t like that end— So I changed one line now it loops again. Taste metal in my mouth when the room goes still, Like a reaction kicked in I can’t un-feel, They say “it’s all in your head,” yeah I know that’s real— That’s the part that scares me more than it should. You ever feel like the room got smaller? Like the voice got close but the walls got taller? Like you walked out once but you still inside? Yeah… that’s where they said I’m “doing fine.” --- [Final Hook – Quieter, more unsettling] This that basement gospel, no release, Where the calm don’t last and it don’t mean peace, No halo left, no self to save— Just a version of me that refused to behave. This that basement gospel, version three, If I left that room… did it leave with me? No end here, no final plea— Just a loop they keep callin’ “recovery.” --- [Outro – Female voice, soft, clinical] “Session complete… …no. Session repeated.”