[Intro]
(Room forty four)
Out Room forty four’s door,
Four floors down — the TV flickering...  
(Ha-ha-ha)

[Verse 1]
Out Room 44’s door, got four floors down,
Before the static screamed and pulled me around.
Rusted lights flicker, my veins start to crawl —
Can’t tell if it’s past, or just memory’s call.

So now I sleep where the silence holds.
I tape the prey, erase and replay.
Fingers snap on the edge of madness,
Entangled in darkness, a vow blood-red.

[Hook]
I don’t blink no more —
Don’t sleep. Don’t speak.
No tears left in me — just glitch and spite,
A thousand wars in a room with no light.
I move like a phantom in static’s trap,
A distorted nightmare in every step.
Only fear remains...

[Verse 2]
I hid in the corner — older, death’s order.
Each repeat a ghost — each loop, new face.
I saw her run. I saw her ghost.
I saw her post that bloodied kiss.

I smiled at the corpse...
Where the blood stains the eyes and the silence suits.
Room forty four — no one blinked, just laughed.
Till they feel the splash before the dash.

[Bridge]
Spirals ignite like horror’s jest,
Delusions pulse — no chance to rest.
Neurons flare in a coded mess,
Madness preys where thoughts compress.

Time skips jagged, a grim charade,
Each tick a slice that memory flayed.
They sprint, confined in halls of splattergore,
Haunted by flashbacks that blind with light.

[Hook]
I don’t blink no more —
Don’t sleep. Don’t speak.
No tears left in me — just glitch and spite,
A thousand wars in a room with no light.
I move like a phantom in static’s trap,
A distorted nightmare in every step.
Only fear remains...

[Verse 3]
Corpses drag thoughts down hallways slow,
Each one a name that I carved in walls.
I mop with rage on a floor that’s gone,
Where blood dried up, but I rage alone.

  

You made me. Ain’t you proud?

(I’m not light. I’m not dark).

I’m the sum of your silence.

(I’m pain when it feels hope)

I'm the silence that screams.

A glitch in the blood.

A break in the dream.

[interlude]
don’t blink  —
Don’t sleep. Don’t speak.
(Room forty four)

[Outro]
(out Room forty four's door...)
Four floors down...
The TV still flickering...
(Ha-ha-ha)

Glitch 2

I craft echoes from the abyss—sounds born of shattered minds and unspoken scars.
Psychologicalcore isn't just noise; it's the scream of silence unraveling, woven from trauma's threads, prophetic whispers, and the raw ache of existence.
No cheap thrills here. This horror lingers, thinks, bleeds into your thoughts, resurrecting buried memories as confessions set to rhythm.
I'm Tweak, the Twisted One. Emerging from the void with fresh drops that demand to be heard.
Join the unraveling. You're never truly alone in the madness..

I am Tweak.
And this is Psychologicalcore.
You are not alone.