EIGHT DAYS A WEEK

**[Intro – spoken, dry]**
Yeah.
End of the year.
Didn’t change.
Relax—neither did you.

---

**[Verse 1 – spoken over sparse rhythm]**
Hi.
Your name doesn’t matter.
Skip the warm-up—
get to business.

You talk a lot.
You never listen.
Something’s missing.
I stopped pretending I care.

If I sound broken,
good.
At least that part’s honest.

I move through rooms like a zombie—
one thought, one drink, same night.
Head still spinning,
life on rinse cycle.
Who’s gonna stop me?
You?
Please.

Call me reckless.
Call me crazy.
That’s family tradition.
You say *never*.
I say *watch me*.

---

**[Hook – half-sung, crowd space]**
Been drunk eight days a week.
Yeah—
they hate me.
I’d pay to be better someday,
before I pay to hear you save me.

No hope for lonely people—
don’t act shocked.
When it’s over, it’s over.
Music stops.
Lights on.

---

**[Verse 2 – spoken, sharper]**
I’ve been gone so long
I don’t know the way back.
Fill the glass.
I need quiet, not guidance.

Mirror doesn’t cooperate anymore.
Friends blur into background noise.
Haven’t slept.
Won’t sleep.
Don’t ask.

Why the long face?
Why can’t it just be my way?
Why do you need an audience
every time you open your mouth?

Everyone’s got a theory about me.
Who I fought.
Who I touched.
What I hate now.
What I ruined last night.

Black eye?
Yeah.
I earned it.

Here’s an idea—
mind your business.
Shut up.
We’ll call it even.

---

**[Hook – louder, band swells]**
Been drunk eight days a week.
Yeah—
they hate me.
I’d pay to be better someday,
before I pay to hear you save me.

---

**[Bridge – almost whispered]**
Year’s ending.
No transformation.
No redemption arc.

You call that failure.
I call it consistency.

Everyone claims they care—
real loud.
Funny how it sounds like nothing
when you need it.

---

**[Outro – spoken, final]**
I don’t know my way home.
Don’t pretend you do either.

I don’t know my way home.
That’s it.

Progressive rock, math rock, IDM, instrumental fusion, modern trap, technical guitar work, atmospheric, Female, stadium