im a junky

Lyrics

(The music drops out, leaving only a low, pulsing sub-bass and a ticking hi-hat. The Storyteller steps up to the mic, looking calm, almost like they’re at an intervention.)
​The Confession
​Listen up. Gather 'round, yeah.
It’s storytime.
I’ve got a confession to make, and it ain't pretty.
I tried to hide it, tried to fight it, but it’s time to face the truth.
​(Beat kicks in—heavy, distorted, 808-thumping)
​Yeah... I’m a junky.
A straight up, unapologetic junky.
You can see it in my eyes when the room starts to shake.
I’m addicted to that bass.
I’m a bassline junky.
​Verse 1: The First Hit
​It started back in the day, just a innocent kid,
Didn't know what a low frequency did.
Walking past a car, windows rattling the street,
Felt a physical punch from the soul of the beat.
My ribcage was vibrating, my heart out of time,
I didn't want a melody, didn't need a rhyme.
I just needed that thump, that sub-bass rumble,
The kind of heavy pressure makes a skyscraper crumble.
​Now I’m hunting for the fix, scanning every single track,
Once that sub hits your spine, there is no going back.
My friends say I've changed, say I'm losing my mind,
'Cause if it ain't hitting 40 Hertz, I leave it behind.
​Chorus: The Addiction
​Yeah, I’m a junky! (Straight up!)
Addicted to that bass, I'm a bassline junky.
Don't give me no treble, don't give me no synth,
I've been trapped in this groove since the day it commence.
Yeah, I’m a junky! (Can't stop!)
Addicted to that bass, I'm a bassline junky.
When the sub-woofer breathes, that’s my only escape,
Shaking up the floorboards, altering the landscape.
​Verse 2: The Story of the High
​Storytime: Let me tell you about last night. I walked into the venue, right? Standard club, people talking. But then the DJ loaded up the track. I saw the cones on the speaker boxes start to push outward.
​I felt it in my shins first, creeping up my knees,
A 12-inch driver bringing DJ's to their knees.
The room started blurred, my vision went hazy,
People on the floor going absolutely crazy.
The bartender’s glasses are sliding off the shelf,
I’m standing in the middle, nodding to myself.
They're sipping on liquor to feel a little fine?
Man, I'm getting wasted on a dirty bassline.
​It’s a sickness, it’s a habit, it’s a beautiful curse,
Every time the drop happens, it just gets worse.
My ears might be ringing, my doctors annoyed,
But I'm chasing that feeling deep into the void.
​Outro: The Relapse
​(The drums fade out. Only a massive, oscillating bass tone remains, bending lower and lower until it shakes the room.)
​Yeah. A straight up junky.
Can't rehab this.
Don't want to.
Just turn the sub up... and let it ride.
(Bass drops one final time, then cuts to absolute silence.)