DON'T FALL ASLEEP

Don't fall asleep.

He's waiting in the static again.

Don't fall asleep.

He's waiting in the static

again.

Midnight leaking through the ceiling

cracks. Black candles melting onto tarot

stacks. Television angels whisper

through the snow. Every channel says

there's nowhere left to go.

Yeah, footsteps underneath the floor,

but I live alone. I checked before.

Shadows move wrong in the hallway light.

Something wearing my face stands outside

tonight. And the moon looks sick above

herosa waves like abandoned California

to graves. Everybody online smiling with

dead eyes, posting pretty little lies

while the real world dies.

And every dream gets louder. Every

mirror gross teeth, every whisper secret

underneath my sheets. I can feel the

static breathing in the walls.

Hear invisible things crawling through

the calls. Welcome to Psyche's

nightmares. Black roses growing from me

electric chairs. Every live stream opens

gates somewhere and the shadows

know my name. Welcome to psyches

nightmares. Terror prophets choking on

burn air. Something ancient hiding in

the glare and crawling

through the frame.

I saw a woman dancing in the crimson

veil. Headless orchestra playing

funerals songs. Rats in tuxedos laughing

at the screen while raccoon queen smoke

gasoline.

The ocean turned black at 3:33.

Every wave whispers, "You belong to me."

>> I tried to wake up, but the room reset.

Same broken clock, SAME CELL. And every

hallway stretched another mile. Every

smiling stranger star to long a while.

Everybody chancing from invisible rooms

like a digital cult. Preparing for doom.

Some nightmares chase you.

Some nightmares study you.

And some

fall in love with you.

Now the walls breathe slow like dying

lungs. Neon crosses drip with blood red

suns. I see my old selves hanging from

the sky like failed prophecies that

refuse to die. But the nightmare made me

powerful, too. Turn fear into something

cold and new. Now I walk through

darkness like a king. While demons

whisper, "Don't let him sing." Because

every word becomes a ritual flame. Every

camera lens becomes a summon. Standing

frame. Every audience member unknowingly

stares straight into Psyche's nightmare.

Welcome to Psyche's nightmares. Velvet

ghosts and pixelated

prayers. Beautiful monsters brushing my

hair while the dead

la.

Welcome to Psyches Nightmare.

Everybody's screaming, but nobody cares.

The dream keeps folding into itself

somewhere, and nobody

surives

the night.

Do not rewind the tape.

Do not answer the whispers.

Do not look behind you.

He's already there.