Lyrics

I didn’t crawl out of my mother,I was coaxed out by a hymn that didn’t want me.Taught my thighs were shame,my mouth too wide for heaven.But the piano never flinched.Born in lace and silence,raised in polished pews,they taught me thunder in a girl was the wrong hue.But I was born from a piano’s whisper.
She never judged,never looked away when I placed my wounds between her teeth and whispered”Play me.I was born with a piano’s moan,preacher’s child but never owned.I sewed my shadow with needles of bone,So she’d stop leaving me all alone.A stained glass girl with a cracked confession,Hid thunder in every repressed obsession.They told me,”Close your legs.Speak clean.”But I learned to split the inbetweens.the piano knew my hell,she held my truths,she wore them well.She never sat silent,never pulled away,When I showed her the secrets I couldn’t say.i bled on the bench,they said,Play it sweet So I hammered the keys til they cracked my teeth.They prayed I’d repent but I only confessed to burning down heaven inside my chest,and then They called me trouble.Red hair.rage.Too loud to kneel in Jesus’ name.So I sang,Father Lucifer, you never looked so sane.because I had to flirt with devils just to reclaim what the saints erased.I told them,This is how a witch will pray,When God has thrown his ears away.I peeled back skin just to make God stare,He blinked once then vanished in prayer.my father kissed my cheek like it was blessing fed my soul to his Sunday choir before resting so I stitched my trauma into lullabies Now mothers hum it,not knowing why.They said,“Little earthquakes don’t kill.”But that’s a lie.The softest tremble can split your ribs if it’s timed right.I learned control.How to sing a scream and make it whole,turn it into song,cry in key and make it beautiful,and let it ruin you”Me and a Gun”wasn’t a song.It was a goddamn autopsy.I sang it bare,no chords no veil.Because sometimes silence tells the tale.violins can’t replace,The weight of puritys erased.They say,Why does she moan like she’s possessed,sacred sits inside distress when they called me a bitch with a voice too loud,I moaned through the mic and I made them bow.When he told me”You’re dreaming”I conjured a grave,Lit up the tomb and gave it my name.asked my mirror if I still exist,She cracked a smile and slit her wrist.So I spiked my psalms with holy bile,Smeared on blood and preached a while.I don’t want your applause.I want your discomfort.I want your skin to crawl,like mine.when I scream of you,let contempt drip from my words like holy wine,I don’t sing,I seethe.I don’t play,i breathe Blood into chords and teeth into tone.I call the dark and make it known.i don’t play piano I split skies.I thread octaves like rosaries of fire and lies.i rise.From under the altar from vinyl and ash,from every man who called my rage off-key.You want forgiveness?Go kneel in the dirt.This voice is a weapon.This dress is a curse.I’ll kiss you with scripture,slit your regret,A holy duet you won’t soon forget