My Laptop’s My Therapist

[ Lyrics ]

My laptop’s my therapist, saving me in stereo.

Backlit in the dark, blanket 'round my knees,
Fender Rhodes looping like a prayer I never said.
Another day of almosts, another ‘thanks, not now’,
I let the silence build a beat to sing myself out.
No couch, no notepad, just a cracked screen glow,
where I spill the mess I can’t say out loud, verse by verse I know.

I don’t need a mirror to see how I’ve changed,
just the way the melody don’t sound so strange.
I rearrange the pain into something clean—
chorus hits right where I felt the sting.

My laptop’s my therapist, saving me in stereo,
every heartbreak tuned to a minor chord slow.
I don’t talk for hours, I just write and go,
heal in the headphones, where the real world’s low.

Sixth cup of coffee, cursor blinking red,
I hum a line my mother said when I was seven.
‘You’re too much for some rooms’—now I build my own,
with reverb on my voice so I’m never alone.
Layered harmonies like arms around my chest,
I sing the parts I wish I’d said, and then I delete the rest.

I don’t need a witness, I don’t need a name,
just this DAW holding space like a window without frame.
No judgment in the levels, just truth in every take—
I’m the mess and the magic, both on the same track.

My laptop’s my therapist, saving me in stereo,
every heartbreak tuned to a minor chord slow.
I don’t talk for hours, I just write and go,
heal in the headphones, where the real world’s low.

When the silence screams, I press record.
When the doubt leaks, I write a note.
I splice the fear into a hook,
add a drum to make it groove.

My laptop’s my therapist, saving me in stereo,
every scar now hums like a synth I know.
I don’t need closure, I’ve got tempo,
heal in the headphones, where I finally let go.
Hard to say it out loud, but it’s real though—
my laptop’s my therapist, and it sees my soul.

Saving me… in stereo.