Tastes Bloody Sweet

thrash metal, alternative metal, grunge (Verse 1) I chase the sting, not the need, not the source. Salt on my tongue — something sharp, something coarse. I give in bits, in slips, in thin sheets. Nothing screams — so it doesn’t feel weak. You press where it’s thin, where it’s worn, where it’s numb. I don’t resist — I go still, I go dumb. No clean break, just a drag, just a leak. Piece by piece — I get less every week. ⸻ (Pre-Chorus) Too clean. Too smooth. Too numb to refuse. If nothing screams — then nothing is used. ⸻ (Chorus) Salt from your skin cuts my tongue when we meet. Burns when it lingers, it bites when I breathe. I taste iron — too deep. Still I stay, still I press, still I keep. everything, everything tastes bloody sweet. ⸻ (Verse 3) After it sits — like a weight, like a stain. Under the skin, in the pulse, in the veins. I reach again for a different release. Same kind of damage, just dressed up in clean. New hands, same pull, same pattern, same need. Different face — but it feeds what I bleed. ⸻ (Pre-Chorus) Still here. Still wrong. Still something to hold. If it still hits — then I’m not alone. ⸻ (Chorus) Salt from your skin cuts my tongue when we meet. Burns when it lingers, it bites when I breathe. I taste iron — too deep. Still I stay, still I press, still I keep. everything, everything tastes bloody sweet. ⸻ (Bridge) Later it shows — in the gaps, in the seams. In the way I don’t sit in my skin like it’s me. In the quiet, the echo, the space in between. In the parts that feel gone but I swear I still need. So I reach. So I take. So I cut. So I stay. ⸻ (Final Chorus — heavier flow) Salt from your skin cuts deeper than speech. Burns when it hits, but it keeps me in reach. I taste iron — let it flood, let it seep. If I bleed slow enough, I don’t feel what it leaves. I don’t ask what it costs, I don’t measure the weight. I just stay in the sting till it numbs me again. Right on the edge, where it breaks, where it bleeds — everything, everything tastes bloody sweet.