Will Be Caught
A melancholic acoustic folk song played with a punk’s urgency and roughness. The guitar is acoustic but battered, with aggressive strumming and occasional missed chords, like someone playing after too many drinks. The melody is still lyrical and expressive, but the vocal delivery is throaty, raspy, and slightly off-key, like a punk singer trying to sing a confessional ballad. Vocals must crack. Druggy. Slurred. The performance feels intimate and unfiltered, with cracks, breathiness, and emotional vulnerability bleeding through. Minimal percussion, if any—just a loose, human rhythm, not perfectly locked. Production is lo-fi and raw, like a basement recording with room noise and imperfect tuning. The overall mood is bittersweet and honest, a beautiful song performed by someone who can’t quite keep it together.
Will Be Caught
A melancholic acoustic folk song played with a punk’s urgency and roughness. The guitar is acoustic but battered, with aggressive strumming and occasional missed chords, like someone playing after too many drinks. The melody is still lyrical and expressive, but the vocal delivery is throaty, raspy, and slightly off-key, like a punk singer trying to sing a confessional ballad. Vocals must crack. Druggy. Slurred. The performance feels intimate and unfiltered, with cracks, breathiness, and emotional vulnerability bleeding through. Minimal percussion, if any—just a loose, human rhythm, not perfectly locked. Production is lo-fi and raw, like a basement recording with room noise and imperfect tuning. The overall mood is bittersweet and honest, a beautiful song performed by someone who can’t quite keep it together.
Lyrics
Verse
I used to say there’s nothing to the
stories about heaven and hell
once you die you wither away
there’s nothing more to tell
Verse
but when you've seen the light in a loved one’s eye
extinguished like a flame
you want to believe in those stories
when there’s nothing left but pain
Chorus
Finding comfort in organized religion
The teachings of the church
Is like trying to find reason
In a racist purge
There's really none to find
No, it offers naught
But once you're in the web
You will be caught
Verse
I’ve watched the rituals repeat themselves
the candles, the bowed heads
answers spoken with borrowed words
to soften what the grave has said
Verse
They tell you suffering has meaning
that it’s part of some grand design
but that feels like a cruel excuse
for the theft of someone’s time
Chorus
Finding comfort in organized religion
The teachings of the church
Is like trying to find reason
In a racist purge
There's really none to find
No, it offers naught
But once you're in the web
You will be caught
Verse
I don’t blame those who need the story
to get through another night
when the world keeps breaking promises
and refuses to make things right
Verse
But I can’t kneel for empty reasons
or call submission grace
I won’t trade honest sorrow
for a lie with a kinder face
Bridge
I won’t sneer at faith that’s whispered low
in the dark, between the breaths
but I won’t bow to institutions
that turn grief into a debt
Chorus
Finding comfort in organized religion
The teachings of the church
Is like trying to find reason
In a racist purge
There's really none to find
No, it offers naught
But once you're in the web
You will be caught
You will be caught
You will be caught
Chorus
Finding comfort in organized religion
The teachings of the church
Is like trying to find reason
In a racist purge
There's really none to find
No, it offers naught
But once you're in the web
You will be caught