(Opening: Distorted, detuned seven-string guitar chugs, slow and heavy, with a faint, melancholic clean guitar arpeggio weaving through it. A low, rumbling bass line enters, almost subliminal.)

(Verse 1 - Vocals: Low, almost whispered, building in intensity, a hint of disdain)

Sunrise bleeds across the cracked motel glass, another day, same old sin

Another chance to watch the moments pass, this pointless carousel begins

My life's a broken rollercoaster, click-clack, up the hill, so slow... God!

Then a pathetic, disappointing coast, nowhere left for me to go.

(Pre-Chorus - Vocals: Swelling with frustration, a strained plea)

They scream "seize the day!" but what if the day's just a dud?

A caramel apple, stuck in the mud, this theme park map is wrong!

I've been searching for the thrill, but it's just a tragic, stupid song.

Chorus

(Chorus - Vocals: Explosive, raw, half-scream, half-sung, with layered harmonies adding to the sense of desperation. Guitars are crushing, thick, and syncopated, drums are pounding with double bass, cymbal crashes punctuating every beat.)

OH! THE BANANA FLOATS! MELTING IN THE SUN!

RAZOR BLADE LOLLIPOPS! THIS IS NOT MY FUN!

AN ETERNITY WASTED! TICKET STUB IN MY HAND!

THIS CARNIVAL OF REGRET! IN THIS MISERABLE LAND!

(Verse 2 - Vocals: Back to a strained, almost sarcastic tone, picking up intensity again.)

Remember Splash Mountain? Thought I'd find some goddamn joy

Instead, just soggy cargo shorts, a cheap plastic toy. Pathetic.

Then the funnel cake heartburn, that clown's unsettling, vacant grin

Just wanted some excitement, where do I even begin, where do I begin?!

(Pre-Chorus - Vocals: Rising in a crescendo of anger and despair.)

They shout "live it up!" but what if "up" is down the drain?

A spinning teacup ride, caught in this acid, burning rain!

Still searching for the thrill, but it's just a hollow, stupid song.

Chorus

(Chorus - Vocals: Even more aggressive, guttural, borderline screaming. Instruments are a wall of sound, relentless and heavy.)

OH! THE BANANA FLOATS! MELTING IN THE SUN!

RAZOR BLADE LOLLIPOPS! THIS IS NOT MY FUN!

AN ETERNITY WASTED! TICKET STUB IN MY HAND!

THIS CARNIVAL OF REGRET! IN THIS MISERABLE LAND!

(Verse 3 - Vocals: A low, conspiratorial murmur, growing in bitterness and almost maniacal laughter.)

I tried the Midway games, thought maybe I could win

A giant, stuffed unicorn, to mask the void within.

Just rigged machines and broken hopes, a pocket full of change,

Another cheap attempt at happiness, beyond my twisted range.

This cotton candy headache, sticking to my soul.

(Verse 4 - Vocals: A sudden shift to more melodic, but still anguished, singing, then breaking into frustrated shouts.)

The fireworks erupted, a brief, deceptive glow,

Then just the smoky residue, the emptiness below.

I watched the happy families, their smiles, a cruel disguise,

While my own dreams disintegrated, right before my eyes.

Just wanted something real, but it's all a cheap facade!

(Guitar Solo – Starts with a slow, mournful, highly distorted bend, then erupts into a chaotic, but melodic, flurry of shredding and whammy bar dives, punctuated by heavy, palm-muted chugs. It's technically proficient but sounds emotionally unhinged.)

(Bridge - Vocals: Starting quiet, almost defeated, then building to a desperate, broken scream. Music is sparse, atmospheric, then crashes back in.)

I tried the House of Horrors, thought I'd finally feel some fear

Just dusty animatronics, and a very bored, dead-eyed cashier.

Is this all there is to life? Just queues and sticky, festering floors?

Counting down the hours, trapped behind these rusted, bolted doors... GET ME OUT!

(Chorus - Vocals: Absolute cathartic scream, pushing the limits, hoarse and raw. The music is at its heaviest, a controlled chaos that feels like it could break at any moment.)

OH! THE BANANA FLOATS! MELTING IN THE SUN!

RAZOR BLADE LOLLIPOPS! THIS IS NOT MY FUN!

AN ETERNITY WASTED! TICKET STUB IN MY HAND!

THIS CARNIVAL OF REGRET! IN THIS MISERABLE LAND!

(Outro - The final chorus chord rings out, then decays into feedback. A lone, distorted guitar chord is struck and slowly fades, punctuated by a deep, resonant kick drum beat that slowly slows down. The faint, melancholic clean arpeggio from the intro returns, even more distant and mournful, before abruptly cutting off.)

Wasted... all of it... just wasted...

(Sound of a single, slow, deliberate tear ripping paper, like a ticket stub being shredded.)