S4ma3L - Freakshow hookups (Metalcore, Industrial, 2026 - Testo in descrizione)

Описание: First kill... first thrill...
She’s a porcelain doll... in a concrete grave...
Poetic lies... for the soul she won't save...
“I won't give you the number, but whisper my name”
“Park your wreck at my door, let’s feed the flame”
Like I’m crawling inside your hollow, rotted skull
A 24-hour slave for a mind so dull
Now she’s bleeding tears at the bar, “You’re just a ghost”
Bitch, you’re just a carcass I’ve forgotten the most! (YEAH!)

Freakshow hookups, absurd and cold
Same damn story, getting old
I’m burning heart and miles on the dash
You’re just ghosting white noise and digital trash
I’ve bled more time than I’ve bled red
In the neon cemetery of the living dead
Between a “You’re special” and a “Come to me”
I scream: “Why the fuck do I do this for free?”

Then comes the twenty-year-old plastic queen
Eyes like a razor, soul like a machine
“You’re a beautiful monster, exactly my type”
Spent the whole damn day feeding your hype
A hood ornament dragged through the Capital’s gut
In the rain and the filth, every door is shut
Spinning through bars like a rat in a cage
“Stop here? No, I need a bigger stage!”
I followed ‘til the leather on my boots turned to dust
Chasing a shadow, a whisper of lust
The only trip was my pride on a rusted chain
Dragged like a dog through the city of pain! (GO!)
​
Freakshow hookups, absurd and cold
Same damn story, getting old
I’m burning heart and miles on the dash
You’re just ghosting white noise and digital trash
I’ve bled more time than I’ve bled red
In the neon cemetery of the living dead
Between a “You’re special” and a “Come to me”
I scream: “Why the fuck do I do this for free?”
​
Then there’s the phantom, the end-of-the-month ghoul
Crawling out of the dirt, looking for a fool
“What you doing tomorrow? Let’s play.”
She lights the fuse then throws the ashes away
Back of the van, shadow play
Seats ripped open, windows gray
Steam on the glass, a suffocating sound
“You’re just the fix that I finally found”
She’s the jagged splinter in the nerve of my soul!

SCREAMING AT THE WHEEL!
WHITE-KNUCKLE GRIP! (white-knuckle grip)
I ain't your emotional graveyard!
I ain't the prize for a heart that’s gone hard!
If you only crawl back when the moon is full
Keep your cheap poison, I’m breaking the rule
I’m keeping my soul!
I’m keeping my dignity!

Freakshow hookups, absurd and cold
Same damn story, getting old
I’m burning heart and miles on the dash
I just laugh and I spit in the mud:
“YOU WON’T FIND ME HERE ANYMORE!”