Faultlines in the Lung
This track fuses metalcore and R&B with experimental, progressive structures, Angular math-rock riffs cut through waves of 7-string guitar, propelled by frenetic blast beat drumming, Sudden shifts, odd meters, and wide dynamics underpin emotional male vocals, creating a kinetic, immersive texture
Faultlines in the Lung
This track fuses metalcore and R&B with experimental, progressive structures, Angular math-rock riffs cut through waves of 7-string guitar, propelled by frenetic blast beat drumming, Sudden shifts, odd meters, and wide dynamics underpin emotional male vocals, creating a kinetic, immersive texture
Lyrics
Verse 1
Cold sirens in the alveoli, copper in the tongue,
carbon hymns, midnight limbs—faultlines in the lung.
I archived every aftershock, numbered losses one by one,
a ledger scratched on paper skin that tears when morning comes.
I chased a light through weathered halls that had no exit signs,
a corridor of borrowed air and ruptured storylines.
Pre-Chorus
Teach my chest to hold a sky that doesn’t cave,
teach this body how to breathe beyond the grave.
Count to four—then five—then seven; keep me brave.
Chorus
Write me steady in the tremor,
stitch my breath to something better.
When the ground inside me shivers,
let your voice become the tether.
If the past keeps breaking open—
draw new borders with your tongue;
teach my ribs a living cadence
through the FAULTLINES IN THE LUNG.
Verse 2
Redshift at the edges where our distances begin,
light leaves home but lingers like a fingerprint on wind.
I coughed up names like ashes, tried to swallow back the night,
but every ghost I cataloged kept asking me for light.
So place a lantern in my throat, let vowels warm the cold,
and turn these fractured margins into syllables of gold.
Pre-Chorus
Teach my chest to keep its shape when pressure climbs,
teach these shaken hands to underline the lines.
Count the beats—reset the time—realign.
Chorus
Write me steady in the tremor,
stitch my breath to something better.
When the ground inside me shivers,
let your voice become the tether.
If the past keeps breaking open—
draw new borders with your tongue;
teach my ribs a living cadence
through the FAULTLINES IN THE LUNG.
Bridge/Breakdown
Be the tide inside my ribcage,
turn the undertow to calm;
trace a north across my sternum,
write your mercy on my palm.
When the ground begins to murmur,
hold the measure, hold the time—
I will breathe the light you offer
till the tremor falls in line.
Final Chorus
Write me steady in the tremor,
stitch my breath to something better.
When the plates beneath me shiver,
hold the fault and not the fetter.
If the past keeps breaking open—
ink the future on my tongue;
Sing a North into my Sternum,
Pulse a rhythm through my lungs—
’til the ground inside grows quiet,
and the light returns in waves,
’til these ribs learn how to open—
and I finally breathe again....