[Intro]
[Verse 1]
I walked out of the room where I learned my own name,
left the photograph turning its face to the wall.
The door made a sound like a question I couldn't frame,
and the hallway remembered the weight of the call.
[Chorus]
Exit wound, entrance song,
every leaving is where I belong.
I carry the cut and the chord in one hand,
the blood and the bell of a half-promised land.
[Verse 2]
There were reasons. There are reasons. There are reasons still.
There's a chair by a window that nobody sits in.
I signed on the line that runs under the hill,
and the pen drew a road I could never begin.
[Chorus]
Exit wound, entrance song,
every leaving is where I belong.
I carry the cut and the chord in one hand,
the blood and the bell of a half-promised land.
[Bridge]
If meaning is a door and the door is a cut,
then walking through is the bravest thing I do.
[Outro]
Exit wound. Entrance song. I am the door.
生成说明
Heavy fist-pumping metal at 142 BPM, fist-driven kick pattern with double-bass rolls, palm-muted eighth-note guitars, mid-tempo drive, expressive adult male baritone lead. Anthem structure, anthemic and defiant. Clear mix: kick and snare up front, rhythm guitars wide, lead guitar high. Theme: walking out of an old wound and into a song — existence as a door that opens by cutting. Tasteful, classic, restrained, faithful.
[Intro]
SPOKEN INTRO (low, close-mic, half-whispered over single-note guitar feedback):
You keep calling it a wound. I keep calling it a window.
You think you walked out. You think you walked in.
What if the door was the cut, and the cut was the singing?
[Verse 1]
The corridor smelled of the cigarettes you stopped,
a poster of someone you used to want to be.
You said I love you in a voice that came unstuck,
and the wall kept the shape of where you used to be.
[Chorus]
Exit wound, entrance song,
the body's a bell the body's been wrong.
Carry the cut, carry the chord,
the door is the cut and the cut is the chord.
[Verse 2]
There were reasons. There are reasons. There are reasons still.
There's a chair by a window that nobody sits in.
I signed on the line that runs under the hill,
and the pen drew a road I could never begin.
[Chorus]
Exit wound, entrance song,
the body's a bell the body's been wrong.
Carry the cut, carry the chord,
the door is the cut and the cut is the chord.
[Bridge]
SPOKEN BRIDGE (conversational, no reverb, voice almost breaking):
I chose the wrong door on purpose. That is the only honest sentence I have.
The light in the kitchen was a colour that no one names.
I held the knife for a while. I held the song for a while.
The song held longer. The song is still holding.
[Break]
(drum-brush Break, four bars, breathing only)
[Verse 3]
Now I live in the room I keep leaving in my head,
a city of one lit room and one lit window.
Every entrance is a rehearsal for the next exit,
and the rehearsal is the only life I get to know.
[Chorus]
Exit wound, entrance song,
the body's a bell the body's been wrong.
Carry the cut, carry the chord,
the door is the cut and the cut is the chord.
[Outro]
SPOKEN OUTRO (almost inaudible, voice alone, no instruments):
If the song ends, the wound ends. If the wound ends, the door ends.
I am the door.
生成说明
Aggressive modern metal at 142 BPM, half-time breakdowns, blast-beat transitions, detuned 7-string guitars, expressive adult male lead vocal that occasionally drops into half-whispered spoken-word passages over feedback and clean-pick arpeggios. Three spoken-word sections: a haunted SPOKEN INTRO over single-note feedback before any band enters, a SPOKEN BRIDGE delivered close-mic with no reverb over a single piano note, and a SPOKEN OUTRO whispered alone at the very end. Includes a 4-bar drum-brush BREAK before an extra Verse 3. Imagery: corridor, exit wound, half-promised land, body's a bell. Dramatic, maximal, structurally adventurous.