MIGRAINE [Verse 1] Ashtray halo on the dashboard light, Cheap chardonnay mouth, old man with a wife-and-mistress appetite, Smiling like the devil at an Aberdeen spotlight. You kissed me like a triptan joke— all teeth, fake relief, and nicotine smoke. There’s mildew growing in the sink again, right beside the pills and the safety pins. The landlord says, “Kid, you look half dead,” I said, “That’s just the migraine in my head.” TV snow and holy politician saints, every bad decision got a pretty face. Your leather jacket smelled like mud, rain, and rot, like every small town we were trying not to become. And God— I swear your laugh sounded dangerous, like broken glass learning how to sing. ⸻ [Chorus] Migraine— pounding like a train through the drywall. Your name— buzzing like a neon sign at last call. You crawl through my bloodstream, dirty little fever dream, leaving fingerprints on everything. Migraine— all black coffee and gasoline. You taste like love, if love came unclean. And every time I try to leave, you come back louder in me— Migraine. Migraine. ⸻ [Verse 2] Bathroom mirror with the fogged-out grin, telling me the worst skin I live in. There’s a halo hanging off the shower rod, next to mother’s lipstick prayers and a counterfeit God. Your hands shook bad when you lit my smoke, like your bones already knew they were broke. We’d lie awake while the pipes screamed blue, counting everything we swore we’d never do. You said, “Maybe we’re just through-and-through ruin.” Maybe. But ruin sure looked addictive on you. ⸻ [Pre-Chorus] Every night was a beat-up car crash hymn, every morning screamed “No Vacancy.” Funny how the heart keeps beating even when the soul gets sick of it. ⸻ [Chorus] Migraine— pounding like a train through the drywall. Your name— buzzing like a neon sign at last call. You crawl through my bloodstream, dirty little fever dream, leaving fingerprints on everything. Migraine— all black coffee and gasoline. You taste like love, if love came unclean. And every time I try to leave, you come back louder in me— Migraine. Migraine. ⸻ [Bridge] Maybe misery just wears cheap denim. Maybe heartbreak’s chemically addictive. Every bruised-up mark I kept had a hickey hiding underneath— just proof I never learned the difference. Between hunger and self-destruction. Between intimacy and corrosion. Between a pulse— and an explosion. ⸻ [Final Chorus] Migraine— now the walls breathe when I wake up. Your ghost— still sleeping in my makeup. Every city looks sick at midnight, every lover talks in headlights, every mirror bends the truth the same. Migraine— you’re the static underneath my skin. The kind of hurt that doesn’t know where it ends. And maybe healing’s just another word for learning how to live with it— Migraine. Migraine. ⸻ [Outro] You can’t cauterize a memory when it still hurts this good. Migraine. Migraine.
