Marilyn Manson — Black Cat [Official Song T.P.F.]

Описание: BLACK CAT is an original dark industrial shock-rock track built around seduction, superstition, and that slow, dangerous feeling of inviting trouble on purpose. Inspired by Marilyn Manson and similar gothic/industrial rock acts, the song blends grinding guitars, mechanical drums, dirty synth textures, and a deep baritone delivery that stays intense without relying on constant screaming.

This track plays with the “bad luck” myth like a ritual — not as a horror cliché, but as a sensual omen: something watching from the doorway, something patient, something that feels too familiar. It’s cinematic, nocturnal, and iron-sharp, made for night drives, dark playlists, and listeners who want industrial rock with atmosphere and attitude.

If you’re into Marilyn Manson, Nine Inch Nails, Deftones, industrial rock, shock rock, industrial metal, and gothic-leaning dark music with a provocative edge, Black Cat belongs in your Playlist

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Title: Black Cat

---Lyrics---

Verse 1

Black cat in the doorway, velvet like a warning,
purring like a secret you don’t want to keep.
A cheap little superstition turns expensive
the moment it follows you home.

Pretty teeth, slow blink, candle-smoke breath,
a shadow that behaves until it doesn’t.
Luck is just fear with better branding,
and tonight it wants to be touched.

Pre-Chorus

Keep your voice soft.
Some curses respond to kindness.

Chorus

Black cat, close to the bone,
silk on the nerves, claws in the tone.
It doesn’t chase — it waits,
until you step where the dark feels warm.
A kiss that tastes like trouble,
a stare that doesn’t flinch,
and you start believing in bad luck on purpose.

Verse 2

Moonlight makes everything look guilty,
especially the things you call “innocent.”
You don’t need a spell to lose control—
a moment of attention is enough.

I’ve seen saints turn curious at midnight,
seen purity fold when nobody’s watching.
The cleanest hands still reach for heat
when the room goes quiet.

Pre-Chorus

Superstition is a love language
for people who crave consequences.

Chorus

Black cat, close to the bone,
soft little omen, hard little truth.
It circles slow, like it owns the air,
and the air agrees.
A whisper that feels like permission,
a scratch you won’t admit,
and suddenly the fall feels chosen.

Bridge

Bad luck isn’t random.
It’s attracted to hunger.

Doors don’t open by themselves—
they open because someone wants what’s behind them.

So keep the lights low, keep the story clean,
keep pretending nothing moved;
the cat already knows where you hide the good parts.

Break

LET IT IN

Final Chorus

Black cat in the hallway, watching you undress your courage,
turning restraint into a slow confession.
It doesn’t ruin the night with drama—
it refines it, one decision at a time.
You walk out looking intact,
but the mirror feels unfamiliar,
like something stayed behind your eyes.

Outro

What begins as a superstition becomes a habit, then a ritual, then a private devotion you defend in silence because it feels better than admitting you invited the darkness in and enjoyed how gently it answered.
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