lawyers don't make the best clients

[intro]
Instruments: jagged guitar riff, steady drums, bass groove


[Verse 1] [Vocal style: dry, sarcastic delivery, with grit] [Instruments: jagged guitar riff, steady drums, bass groove] [Mood: tense, biting]
First day on the job, didn’t know the ropes,
Case closed on my confidence, no room for hope.
Every word I said got cross-examined twice,
Felt like a witness in the dock of my own life.

[Pre-Chorus] [Vocal style: tense, building frustration] [Instruments: drums roll, guitar distortion swelling] [Mood: claustrophobic, pressured]
I stumbled through the questions,
Forgot the lines I’d read.
He objected to my silence,
I objected in my head.

[Chorus] [Vocal style: loud, sarcastic, sing-shout] [Instruments: full-band punch, crunchy guitars, punky energy] [Mood: cathartic venting]
Lawyers don’t make the best clients,
They pick apart the words you said.
Every move becomes a trial,
And you’re guilty in your head.
Lawyers don’t make the best clients,
Crossfire burns you down inside.
I was learning how to care,
While he was learning how to hide.

[Verse 2] [Vocal style: fast, breathless, slightly frantic] [Instruments: punchy bass + offbeat snare groove] [Mood: overwhelmed, frustrated]
Every plan I made turned into a plea,
Arguments stacked like books on me.
Didn’t know the rules, didn’t know the game,
All I knew was I felt ashamed.

[Pre-Chorus] [Vocal style: urgent, strained] [Mood: tense, defeated]
Your logic was a hammer,
My nerves were paper-thin.
Every visit felt like judgment,
Before I could begin.

[Chorus] [Vocal style: raw, shout-sung] [Instruments: crunchy guitars + driving rhythm] [Mood: chaotic release]
Lawyers don’t make the best clients,
They cross your heart and crush your trust.
Every question feels like pressure,
And your answers turn to dust.
Lawyers don’t make the best clients,
Even if they mean no harm.
I was drowning in objections,
Trying hard to stay calm.

[Bridge] [Vocal style: half-yelled, raw, cathartic release] [Instruments: stripped bass + pounding drums → band crashes in] [Mood: angry, empowering]
Your words were walls, your tone was steel,
I lost my ground, forgot how to feel.
But through the weight, I found my way,
Stronger now, I can say—

[Final Chorus] [Vocal style: layered, shouted, cathartic peak] [Instruments: full-band explosion, distorted guitars] [Mood: triumphant, defiant]
Lawyers don’t make the best clients,
But they teach you how to fight.
Every misstep built my backbone,
Turned the wrongs into my right.
Lawyers don’t make the best clients,
But they carved this scarred-up skin.
Now I stand a little taller,
Knowing where I’ve been.

[Outro] [Vocal style: dry, muttered like a punchline] [Instruments: guitar feedback fades] [Mood: sarcastic, tongue-in-cheek]
“Objection overruled…”