M0nsterfriends

#rhymex #zapzarap #humancrimes #monsterfriends #dasistfür456 #bratan #bratina M0nsterfriends Rhymex [Verse 1] Shadows stretch where the streetlights die, another body counted, another alibi. He learned the angles in the quiet rooms, practiced the pause between the knock and the boom. Neighbors swore he waved and mowed the lawn, while the dark inside him never switched off. Not a beast from myth with claws and fangs, just a man who mapped the exits and the chains. Society files the paperwork, stamps the date, moves the headline down when the ratings fade. He keeps the trophies in a shoebox under stairs, proof that empathy was optional, not rare. Call it sickness, call it choice, the outcome’s plain— one more predator walking upright in the rain. Chorus] We keep the monsters close, give ’em names and keys, act surprised when they lock the doors and freeze. Friends with the thing that doesn’t need a mask, just a reason and a window and a task. M0nsterfriends, sitting at the table, passing the salt while the ledger’s unstable. They don’t howl at the moon, they clock in on time— human teeth, human hands, human crime. Verse 2] Look at the pattern, not the single case: power hands the knife and then erases the face. Institutions shrug when the numbers climb, another inquiry, another line. He didn’t grow from nowhere, wasn’t born a void; someone taught him silence is the better choice. Now the feeds replay the footage on a loop, comments argue motive while the families recoup. No superpower, no ancient curse— just a willingness to treat a person like the worst. When the trial ends the cameras pack and leave, the next one already practicing how not to grieve. Bridge] Count the missing, count the ones who stayed, the ones who saw the signs and looked away. Nature doesn’t grant a pass for upright spines; a predator is measured by the damage it assigns. We build the cages after, write the laws in ink, while the ones who never made the list still think. [Verse 3] So he walks the aisles, buys the milk, pays cash, returns the cart, holds the door, no clash. The monster doesn’t announce itself at night; it learns the schedule, learns the light. Rhymex on the record, not romanticizing the act— just noting how the system keeps the contract intact. When the next one surfaces we’ll say the same refrain, then scroll until the next familiar name. Friends with the monsters, until the list includes the quiet ones who never raised their hands but still refused. [Outro] M0nsterfriends… Not under the bed. In the chair across the table. Still breathing. Still counting.