🖤🎪The grand toy box in a bell jar of wonders comes to life, when all is pronounced dead 🎪🖤
This song first came into my mind when I was inspired by the sound of a music box. When I wrote the lyrics, initially, I never would have imagined it to be as fun as it sounds now. I remember the night first started working on this, how I giggled like a child with a brand new toy box. This was because I had just purchased Kinetic Toys and I was so excited to use the sounds of toys as instruments. Jack-in-the-boxes became drums, and Pac-Man became a new synth.
While the lyrics don't mimic my fun, but rather a mixture of pain and fantasy, I hope it teaches one not to take bad circumstances for just as they are.This song may be about the struggles of not feeling like one is just enough to the point of suicidal ideation, only to be brought back to life by the notion that this is just how it goes, but in melody I fight back with a smile. If you're having fun, that's what matters most.
lyrics
🖤🎪🖤
Bones of the babydoll
Lie in honeyed lakes dreaming
Skin marbled and limbs missing
Eyes glossy, yet still dewy
Letters stained in flowers flutter
To myself, the cult queen
God’s typing and she says I’m a hectic melancholy
🖤🎪🖤
Illecebrous, pulchritudinousÂ
And I love itÂ
Catharsis of hate numinousÂ
An angel’s tongue split
Now vanish like drops of wine in a blood pit
I sit at home, hearing shit, scribbling, scribbling
🖤🎪🖤
Dear Diary
They tell me
I gotta bleed honey
If I ever wanna beÂ
The next ouija baby
Gunshot angels
Said I should Ctrl+Alt+Delete
When I come back, I'll see
It’s necromancy, baby (It’s only necromancy)Â
It’s necromancy, baby
When I come back, I'll see
It’s only necromancy
🖤🎪🖤
Mama said I’m addictedÂ
To the taste of obsession
This session of aggression
Has now reached an ascensionÂ
Perhaps I should give warnings
A musical discretion
One should beware of these songs
As they shall break dimensions
🖤🎪🖤
Illecebrous, pulchritudinousÂ
And I love itÂ
Catharsis of hate numinousÂ
An angel’s tongue split
Now vanish like drops of wine in a blood pit
I sit at home, hearing shit, scribbling, scribbling
🖤🎪🖤
Dear Diary
They tell me
I gotta bleed honey
If I ever wanna beÂ
The next ouija baby
Gunshot angels
Said I should Ctrl+Alt+Delete
When I come back, I'll see
It’s necromancy, baby (It’s only necromancy)Â
It’s necromancy, baby
When I come back, I'll see
It’s only necromancy
🖤🎪🖤
Lipstick and leechesÂ
Bitch, It’s called high fashion
Haute couture, tears of noir
I do this for the passion
Une billet-doux for the ruthless
They bring me satisfaction
Much like vintage perversion
It takes a slight persuasion
To make them think this life’s the version
That they should be living in
Throw the old in the bin
Haven’t you heard sin is in
🖤🎪🖤
Dear Diary
They tell me
I gotta bleed honey
If I ever wanna beÂ
The next ouija baby
Gunshot angels
Said I should Ctrl+Alt+Delete
When I come back, I'll see
It’s necromancy, baby (It’s only necromancy)Â
It’s necromancy, baby
When I come back, I'll see
It’s only necromancy
🖤🎪🖤
A small 23 year old singer-songwriter producer daydreaming up stories in the form of songs with a fascination for the marriage of the horrific and the girlish wonder.
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