Tennessee Is For Cutters by Cayden
Tennessee Is For Cutters
alternative Rock
0:005:54
Cayden
Sep 29, 2025
Tennessee Is For Cutters
alternative Rock
Lyrics
Description
Hey there, Chattanooga, where the river swallows screams,
My heart′s a rusted razor slicing through my worthless dreams,
Look out, mountains spittin′ on me, from its heights, a cold disdain,
Whiskey′s just a numb illusion, drown in endless, pointless pain,
And I can′t sleep, thinkin′ about the nothing that I am,
Jack Daniel′s claws, my insides raw tonight,
In this Tennessee Voight Light.
So cut my wrists and black my eyes, I′m bleeding out my soul,
Chattanooga′s buried me in this goddamn black hole,
And I miss you, and I miss you, you′re the blade that carves me through,
Tennessee is for cutters, and I′m slashed and fucking blue.
Oooo
In the haze on Northmoor Road, where the shadows choke the dawn,
A father turned the pistol on himself, his family long gone,
January′s frozen grip, winter′s merciless bite,
Gunshot echoed through the quiet, stealing breath into the night,
Cops found the barrel warm, the chamber′s final hollow roar,
His daughter′s ghost beside him, in the blood upon the floor,
And I can′t breathe, choking on the ash inside my chest,
Tennessee rivers begging me to sink, where the drowned forget to think,
So cut my wrists and black my eyes, I′m bleeding out my soul,
Chattanooga′s burying me in this goddamn black hole,
And I miss you, and I miss you, you′re the blade that carves me through,
Tennessee is for cutters, and I′m slashed and fucking blue,
On Oakwood Drive, August dawn, where the sirens wail too late,
A man with a pistol pressed to chest, sealing his wretched fate,
Self-inflicted thunder, summer′s cruel decree,
Bullet tore his secrets out, leaving echoes of the plea,
Sirens came for saving, but the letter claimed its toll,
Now his shadow stains the porch, another swallowed broken soul,
And I can′t feel, just a husk of stain that won′t erase,
Rise, the only mercy left to chase, in this grave I call my own,
Standing by the river with a blade, kissing faded skin,
Thinking about the voids we carved, the love that turned to sin,
And why so suddenly did you leave this corpse to fester here,
Chattanooga′s my tombstone, etched with all my disappear,
Nearly 50,000 souls a year, they fade into the black,
One more statistic that if shot myself, everyone would forget,
I had three friends, dying, noose, bridge, and knife,
No reports, no families, more than the wrong numbers in the end,
In the dives on Cherry Street, I′m a specter among the damned,
Echoes of Madame Alice, throat slit by her own hand,
November 93, in the shadows of her fall,
She carved her exit quiet, leaving nothing but the wall,
Tennessee, aquariums, tanks, they mock my empty stare,
Fish swim in circles, endless, like the hell I can′t repair,
And I can′t stand, the echo of my worthlessness expand,
Moon shines, my eulogy tonight, a toast to endless, starless night,
Back on Walnut Street Bridge, where the wind howls through the rust,
A girl in 2010, burned out on the world′s cruel thrust,
She chose the drop, the endless plunge, gravity, her silent blade,
No note, no cry, just a river claiming what the fall had made,
Her body hit the water like a secret long suppressed,
Now her ghost sways with the cables, joining me in this unrest,
And I can′t walk, that edge without the pull to talk,
Bourbons whisper in my turn in the void, where bridges burn,
No god, no grave, just the dragadays that maim,
I′m the punchline to a joke, the stain that won′t unclaim,
Bleed it out, black it shut, let the silence stake its claim,
Tennessee don′t want me whole, it wants me pulped and flamed,
So cut my wrists and black my eyes, I′m bleeding out my soul,
Chattanooga′s burying me in this goddamn black hole,
And I miss you, and I miss you, you′re the blade that carves me through,
Tennessee is for cutters and I′m slashed and fucking blue,
Hey Chattanooga, choke my secrets in your silt,
I′m chasing voids with venom guilt, my only built in tilt,
Tennessee is for cutters with a legacy of rot,
And I miss you, and I miss you, in the nothing that I′ve got,
Cut my wrists and black my eyes,
Tennessee Is For Cutters
Genre
Alternative Rock
Gist
This song delivers a raw, deeply personal narrative of despair and suicidal anguish set against the haunting backdrop of Chattanooga, Tennessee. It explores the suffocating pain of loss, addiction, and the inescapable shadows of mental illness, culminating in a visceral cry for understanding amid a landscape marked by tragedy.
Themes
- Suicide and self-harm as manifestations of profound emotional pain
- Isolation and the crushing weight of hopelessness
- The interplay of environment and personal trauma, with Chattanooga and Tennessee symbolizing both physical and emotional prisons
- Addiction as a numbing escape from relentless inner torment
- The anonymity and invisibility of pain in modern society, reflected in statistics and forgotten lives
Inspiration
Inspired directly by the original request’s vivid, emotive lyrics detailing personal and communal tragedies in Chattanooga, this composition channels the stark realities of mental health struggles and loss. The song’s intense imagery and confessional tone reflect the user’s poignant storytelling of self-destruction and mourning.
Emotional Impact
Listeners are drawn into a haunting, cathartic experience marked by anguish and desperation. The song’s anguished vocals, searing lyricism, and fluctuating dynamics evoke a profound sense of empathy, sorrow, and the bleakness of fighting invisible battles. It leaves a lingering impression of raw vulnerability and the urgent need to confront and understand mental health crises.