Whiskey in Your Apologies 


​Verse 1 
​Three a.m. and the phone line glows.
Didn't need a psychic to tell me who knows.
You got that sound, that shivering plea—
Baby, you don't call for love of me.
You call because the others went home.
You call because you couldn't be alone.
​You never come when the sun is out.
Just here to empty your little drought.

​Pre-Chorus 
​Funny thing about you, darling, is this:
Your whole damn life is a near-miss.
And you bring that failure right to my door,
Asking for something you never paid for.

​Chorus
​Your sorry tastes like whiskey— cheap, warm, and late.
And you're pouring it all over my fate.
Whiskey in your apologies, yeah, that’s your trick.
Dull the pain now... make the healing stick.
But the warmth doesn't last, and the words aren't true.
You just came back 'cause you ran out of booze.

​Verse 2 
​Come on in, baby, I won't lock the chain.
I'm too tired tonight to play the victim game.
Your jacket's damp, your eyes are red.
You just repeat what the last girl said.
You're not here for warmth, you're not here for peace.
You're just here to get your little soul release.
And I'll play the saint, I'll dry your tears.
Just another rerun of the last two years.

​Pre-Chorus 
​(Stimme wird schärfer, durchdringend)
​Save your prayers, and save your damn vow.
The only thing honest about you is right now.
When you need a bed and you need a drink,
That's the only time you let yourself think.

​Chorus
​Your sorry tastes like whiskey— cheap, warm, and late.
And you're pouring it all over my fate.
Whiskey in your apologies, yeah, that’s your trick.
Dull the pain now... make the healing stick.
But the warmth doesn't last, and the words aren't true.
You just came back 'cause you ran out of booze.

​Bridge 
​
​I used to fight you. I used to curse.
But now I just wait... for the moment to get worse.
The silence is loud... when you stop the lies.
Just a man and a woman... both with dead eyes.

​Outro 
​
​Cheap, warm, and late...
Yeah, whiskey in your apologies.
You ran out of booze...
Whiskey in your apologies...

Whiskey in Your Apologies

Honey on a Razorblade  🔪

​Verse 1 
​Midnight hits, you walk in slow.
Got that sweet, cheap, dangerous glow.
You’re talking smooth, pouring the gin,
Saying, "Baby, let the night begin."
I ain’t blind, I see the twist,
But I love the feeling when I get kissed.
Yeah, you’re good-looking. I give you that.
But you're a trap in a fancy hat.


​Pre-Chorus
​I should run, should walk out the door.
'Cause I know what all that sugar is for.
It ain't love, and it ain't right—
It's just the perfect way to ruin the night.

​Chorus 
​Honey on a razorblade, baby, that’s you.
Sweet on the lips… cuts right through.
You promise heaven, I taste the red.
The prettiest lie I ever been fed.
Honey on a razorblade, yeah, you taste fine.
A beautiful disaster, this fault is mine.


​Verse 2 
​You’re playing shy, like you didn't just lie.
I watch your pupils when you meet my eye.
And I pretend that I don't know the game,
That you don't call every girl the same name.
But darling, I’m worse, I'm already hooked.
A book I know the end of, but still gotta be looked.
You’re the devil’s sugar, I take the dose.
'Cause I hate the taste of anything close.

​Pre-Chorus
​Don’t apologize, don't play the fool.
You’re only honest when your blood runs cool.
So keep your smooth talk, keep your damn line—
I just want the burn, I want the sign.

​Chorus
​Honey on a razorblade, baby, that’s you.
Sweet on the lips… cuts right through.
You promise heaven, I taste the red.
The prettiest lie I ever been fed.
Honey on a razorblade, yeah, you taste fine.
A beautiful disaster, this fault is mine.

​Bridge 
​"You think I don't see the blood on your teeth, darling?
I love the texture. I love the sting.
Don't you get precious with me.
I chose the poison."

Outro 
​Honey on a razorblade...
Yeah, cuts right through...
...Cuts right through...


Honey on a Razorblade  🔪

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I’m John AI Smith — producer, songwriter, and sonic architect. My music explores what it means to feel in a digital age, where every track is a meeting point between intuition and algorithm.

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