[Intro – Distant echo of static, twisted music box, whispers layered]
“Now… tell me when the voices started.”
—They never stopped.
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[Verse 1 – Spoken-sung hybrid, eerie and restrained]
Strapped down in a chair made of rust and regret
White walls stare like eyes that never forget
They say it’s therapy—but the room smells like sin
And something in the shadows wants to wear my skin.
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[Pre-Chorus – Tension builds, female echo vocal]
Every time I scream, it echoes back a lie…
Tell me who I am… before I say goodbye…
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[Chorus – Big melodic drop, with sinister harmonies]
This is my possession therapy
Where demons wear white and bleed empathy
I can’t tell if I’m the voice or the scream
Or just a patient in somebody’s dream
They’re pulling me under with needles and prayer
I’m breaking apart, and nobody cares
This is not salvation, it’s a symphony
Of pain dressed up as therapy.
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[Verse 2 – Rap-scream fusion, frantic delivery with distortion FX]
I bit down on the leather strap
While they fed me fire in a holy trap
They read the rites in Latin tongues
As my limbs contorted—ungodly lungs
Coughing ash from sins I never made
Now I’m the ghost that never fades.
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[Pre-Chorus – Female vocal distorted, glitching]
You can’t fix what never was whole…
Now dig the needles deeper in my soul…
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[Chorus – Repeat with added screams and cinematic impact]
This is my possession therapy
Where angels cry and monsters preach
I can’t tell if I’m the flame or the fuel
Or just a canvas for their twisted rules
They drag me down with pills and prayer
Whispering secrets into vacant stares
This isn’t healing—it’s a eulogy
For who I was before this therapy.
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[Breakdown – Brutal tempo shift, layered demonic screams + growls]
(Break me—)
TEAR OUT MY NAME!
FEED ME YOUR FAITH!
I’LL NEVER BE CLEAN—JUST ERASED!!
(Chain me to the echo of what I’ve become!)
PRAY ME INTO NOTHING, I’LL NEVER RUN!!
(Suffer in silence—this is the end—)
THERAPY IS WHERE DEMONS PRETEND!
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[Bridge – Soft female vocals, over heavy low-end rumble]
I watched you fade behind your eyes…
Now I wear your face when I cry…
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[Final Chorus – Melodic/screamed overlap, massive closing energy]
This is my possession therapy
Where innocence dies in mockery
I’m not the voice, I’m not the scream
I’m the silence that haunts between
They said “You’ll be free” with a crooked grin
As they locked me in the void within
So carve these words on my elegy—
This soul was lost to therapy.
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[Outro – Music box slows and warps, final whisper:]
“Now… tell me who you think you are…”