SOLD OUT IN YOUR HEAD

Name: SOLD OUT IN YOUR HEAD
Duration: 278 s
Description: SOLD OUT IN YOUR HEAD by mBaileyz — a comedy club where every seat is taken by one of your own fears, and you sold every ticket yourself. Fear of Failure, Imposter Syndrome, FOMO and Fear of the…

SOLD OUT IN YOUR HEAD by mBaileyz — a comedy club where every seat is taken by one of your own fears, and you sold every ticket yourself. Fear of Failure, Imposter Syndrome, FOMO and Fear of the Dark all get a set. The whole song, start to finish.

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SOLD OUT IN YOUR HEAD lyrics

Artist-supplied lyric sheet, matched by title. The sheet may differ from this released performance. Production notes and alternate promotional cuts are omitted.

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Intro

Good evening. Welcome to The Maybe. One seat is saved; wet ink bears my name.

Verse 1

Fear of Failure wipes the mic; white sleeve, black. "This seat knows his shape; one shake, he shrinks back. Irons his loss speech flat, packed just in case. Knee pads on a leap; both feet stay in place. Asked for the big dream; he brings a child cup. One no, twelve doors; brick by brick, boards go up. Keeps Plan B fed, bed made, parked in the front. Plan A feeds the curb meter, runnin', shunned. Give him one closed door, he builds a hallway out of it. Sells hall tours: 'Here lies my shot at it.'" I laugh too loud; he clouds his eyes and points. "My heckler paid in cash. Let him hear his coins."

Chorus

Sold out in your head Sold out, no spare chair Fear keeps killing, nerve keeps bombing Who keeps buying seats in there? Sold out in your head Your name bleeds through each red stub Who holds the stamp at the door? Your thumb. Your ink. Your little club.

Verse 2

Imposter Syndrome steps up in a borrowed coat. The price tag flags each gag when he lands a joke. The room jumps; he slumps. "Those chairs got weak knees." He checks under the glass for the real one's keys. "That laugh wasn't mine. Came free with the drink." He thanks mic, ice, straw, sink in one blink. Name on the check; his pen writes "Wrong Guy." Then tips his own shadow for standing close by. Calls each laugh leased, each beat borrowed, bill due. Hands the rose to the vase. "That clap belongs to you." Crowd pounds his name. He mouths, "Check the list." Hides his gold plaque under LOST AND MISSED.

Chorus

Verse 3

FOMO checks his phone mid-joke. "Better room went live." Leaves this joke half-heard to watch that room arrive. Two wings go cold; his date quits saving his seat. He films the room on fire and misses both his feet. Four exits crack; no entrance gets his weight. Posts "You had to be there" from the curb at eight. Fear of the Dark guards the board; no stage, just shade. Courage finds the pocket; he drops the room to gray.

Bridge

Bulbs blink out; one coin spins under my shoe. In black, the booth voice drops the joke. Mine comes through. "We'd have no material if you stopped showing up. Sold-out show in your head every night, and you bought every ticket." My thumb fits ink; click, the pad turns key. Four curled season passes line the coat on me. I came to roast my fears. The cover charge came back to me. The dimmer hand wears my ring, nick, and scar. I rip one pass; the room pulls one raw breath. Fear grips mic, lips split; no punch line left.

Chorus

Sold out in your head Sold out, no spare chair Fear keeps killing, nerve keeps bombing I quit buying seats in there Sold out in your head Your name bleeds through each red stub Who holds the stamp at the door? My thumb. My ink. My little club.

Outro

The sign flips CLOSED. One coin spins, then drops. One chair folds in the back. Sold out in your head

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Inside the recording

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01 / The opening