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Rust in Our Lungs 2 by René

SongGPT
Rust in Our Lungs 2 by René - Technical Groove Metal With Nu‑Metal Emotion And C music cover art

Rust in Our Lungs 2

Technical Groove Metal With Nu‑Metal Emotion And C

0:003:38
Lyrics
Description
Title: Rust in Our Lungs
[Verse 1]
We learned to breathe through busted speakers,
lungs full of rust, hearts full of static.
Streetlights flickered like bad decisions,
every night felt prophetic.
We didn’t talk about feelings back then,
we tuned ‘em down to E.
Let the feedback say what we couldn’t,
let the noise carry the weight of me.
[Pre-Chorus]
Hands shaking.
Mind locked tight.
Found a home
in the fight.
[Chorus]
There was poetry in the damage,
music in the scars.
Every riff was a confession
carved into cheap guitars.
We were dirty, loud, and breathing fire,
too broken to pretend.
That sound wasn’t just rebellion—
it was where we bent,
but never end.
[Verse 2]
Time moved fast, but it moved ugly,
same pain in a cleaner suit.
They sold rebellion back to us,
said, “This one’s new.”
But I still hear the old ghosts talk
when the kick drum hits my chest.
Every beat like a bad memory
that somehow still knows best.
[Pre-Chorus]
No religion.
No excuse.
Just a pulse
we abused.
[Chorus]
There was poetry in the damage,
truth in the noise.
We didn’t need no saviors,
we just needed a voice.
We were dirty, loud, and half-alive,
wired straight to the end.
That sound didn’t clean us up—
it taught us how to bend.
[Bridge]
They tried to polish the blood off the floor,
call it progress, call it growth.
But you can’t erase the first time
you felt alive choking on hope.
There’s history in distortion,
there’s gospel in decay.
You don’t find yourself in silence—
you get dragged there by the pain.
[Verse 3]
Now we carry years like loaded amps,
still humming when it’s quiet.
Same old rage, just better aimed,
still don’t know how to deny it.
And when the weight pins you to the ground,
and the world won’t let you breathe,
turn it up till it hurts again—
that’s the closest thing to relief.
[Final Chorus]
There was poetry in the damage,
even when it burned.
Every scream another lesson
we survived to learn.
We were dirty, loud, and barely whole,
but goddamn, we were real.
That noise didn’t save our souls—
it just taught ‘em how to feel.
[Outro]
Rust in our lungs.
Steel in our spine.
That sound still hurts—
and that’s why it’s mine.
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