Immediatron - Theater of the Night

Описание: Immediatron - Theater of the Night
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Lyrics:

Midnight glass and paper moons, the city breathes in slow,
Neon veins like broken maps where crooked shadows go.
Mirrors melt and whisper names that never were my own,
Footsteps fold into the dark and lead me far from home.

Clock hands crawl like hungry moths, the ceiling starts to sway,
Every corridor becomes a mouth that wants to say my name.

I fall through painted skies of velvet and of rust,
Where deformed angels hum and teeth collect the dust.
Surreal dreams stitch my skin with threads of silver light,
In the theater of the night, I’m the audience and the fright.

Monsters wear my childhood coats and laugh in crooked tongues,
Their faces bloom like paper flowers, mouths of rusted lungs.
Hallways fold like origami, stairs dissolve to rain,
I barter with a shadow for the shape of my own name.

Glass birds sing in minor keys, the wallpaper unpeels,
Every heartbeat is a drum that tells me what it feels.

I fall through painted skies of velvet and of rust,
Where deformed angels hum and teeth collect the dust.
Surreal dreams stitch my skin with threads of silver light,
In the theater of the night, I’m the audience and the fright.

Static lullabies and a carousel of bones,
A carnival of crooked kings with crowns of broken phones.
Laughing rooms that breathe like whales, the ceiling bleeds confetti,
I trade my shadow for a coin, the coin is made of petty.

Listen there’s a whisper under the floorboards,
It counts the names of things I used to be.
It folds me into paper, folds me into more,
It hums a lullaby of impossible geometry.

I fall through painted skies of velvet and of rust,
Where deformed angels hum and teeth collect the dust.
Surreal dreams stitch my skin with threads of silver light,
In the theater of the night, I’m the audience and the fright.

The projector coughs and dies, the screen becomes a sea,
Monsters bow and take my hand, they know the part of me.
Wake me if you must, but let the dream remain,
A crooked hymn, a neon scar, a soft and lovely pain.

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© 2026
#immediatron
Italy
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