No Shape of Yours

melodic singing

Verse 1

You speak like a sermon

With a blade underneath

Every promise you offer

Turns black when it breathes

You dress it as wisdom

You sell it as care

But I hear the hunger

Behind every prayer

Pre-Chorus

I learned how to nod

I learned how to grin

But there’s something alive

You could never get in

Chorus

I’m no shape of yours

Of yours

I’m not the thing you tried to raise

I’m no saint for you

For you

I’m not the animal you made

No, I’m no shape of yours

Of yours

I won’t sleep inside your cage

I’m no shape of yours

Of yours

I’d rather disappear than wear your face

Verse 2

You polish the damage

And call it divine

You sharpen the silence

Then say it was mine

You wanted obedience

Disguised as love

But I cut through the velvet

And crawled from the dust

Pre-Chorus

I learned how to nod

I learned how to grin

But there’s something alive

You could never get in

Chorus

I’m no shape of yours

Of yours

I’m not the thing you tried to raise

I’m no saint for you

For you

I’m not the animal you made

No, I’m no shape of yours

Of yours

I won’t sleep inside your cage

I’m no shape of yours

Of yours

I’d rather disappear than wear your face

Bridge

Keep your altar

Keep your law

Keep the pretty mouths you bought

Keep your mercy

Keep your blame

I was born outside your game

Keep your version

Keep your lie

I don’t need your reason why

heavy guitar riffing, double-kick drums

Breakdown

I don’t kneel

I don’t fold

I don’t crawl into your cold

I don’t pray

I don’t plead

I don’t rot to make you pleased

I don’t kneel

I don’t fold

I don’t crawl into your cold

I don’t pray

I don’t bleed

I don’t die to make you clean

Final Chorus

I’m no shape of yours

Of yours

I’m not the thing you tried to raise

I’m no saint for you

For you

I’m not the animal you made

No, I’m no shape of yours

Of yours

I won’t sleep inside your cage

I’m no shape of yours

Of yours

I’d rather disappear than wear your face

Outro

distorted vocals

Not your angel

Not your son

Not your pretty loaded gun

Not your sickness

Not your cure

Not your dirty little war

Not your creature

Not your prize

Not the shadow in your eyes

Not your angel

Not your son

Not your pretty loaded gun