[Verse 1]

You lead with the diagnosis, drop it like a heavy card,

A shield made of labels, but it hits twice as hard.

Before a word can be spoken, the boundaries have been drawn,

Like stepping on a minefield before the conversation’s on.

Wearing your history like a badge of absolute immunity,

A clever way to buy yourself some instant impunity.

[Pre-Chorus]

It’s a perfect design, a beautifully constructed frame,

If we ask a single question, we’re the ones who get the blame.

You wave the flag of your distress to keep us in our place,

And use your own fragility to slap us in the face.

[Chorus]

Labels, labels, heavy on your chest,

Worn like a medal, used like a vest.

You throw the first stone, then hide behind the scar,

And call it victim-shaming if we point out who you are.

A shield to stop the questions, a crutch to keep you tall,

But when you build a fortress, you're the first one in the wall.

[Verse 2]

Call yourself broken, break whatever you please,

And bring the world down to its knees.

If we try to hold you to the standards that we share,

You point to your affliction and you cry that it’s unfair.

You’ve turned a quiet struggle to a weaponized defense,

And traded actual healing for a crown of innocence.

[Pre-Chorus]

It’s a perfect design, a beautifully constructed frame,

If we ask a single question, we’re the ones who get the blame.

You wave the flag of your distress to keep us in our place,

And use your own fragility to slap us in the face.

[Chorus]

Labels, labels, heavy on your chest,

Worn like a medal, used like a vest.

You throw the first stone, then hide behind the scar,

And call it victim-shaming if we point out who you are.

A shield to stop the questions, a crutch to keep you tall,

But when you build a fortress, you're the first one in the wall.

[Verse 3]

You claim a monopoly on pain to keep yourself exempt,

While looking at the rest of us with a quiet, cold contempt.

Getting all up in your feels, like you're strutting in nine-inch heels,

To terrified of what a deeper look reveals.

You’ve built a pedestal of glass and call it hallowed ground,

Where no one’s allowed to raise a hand, and no one makes a sound.

[Bridge]

What happens when the diagnosis is all you have left?

When you've silenced every critic and you're standing in the cleft?

No one can touch you, no one can get near,

But nobody is listening, and nobody is here.

A cage of your own making, built of titles and of terms,

Where the pain is never mended, only spoken and confirmed.

[Outro]

So what’s under the armor when the battle is done?

Who are you speaking to when you’ve silenced everyone?

Come on, strip away the title. Strip away the shield.

What's gonna be left when it breaks, this weapon you wield?

Just labels.

Just labels.

Just you alone with your labels.