Make Believe

At its core, Make Believe is a harrowing exploration of severe psychological trauma, dissociation, and derealization. The overarching theme delves into the terrifying sensation of losing one's grip on reality due to overwhelming emotional or mental pain. When an individual is subjected to extreme distress, the mind often detaches as a defense mechanism, which the lyrics perfectly encapsulate through the lens of questioning whether life is real or merely an artificial construct.

The central narrative follows a protagonist who is fundamentally numb. They are no longer the person they used to be, haunted by the things they have witnessed and the trauma they carry. This profound disconnect leads them to question the validity of their own existence, wondering if they have slipped into a digital simulation or a dreamstate. The song explicitly addresses the biological reality of depression and anxiety with references to chemicals inside my brain, removing the stigma of mental illness by portraying it as a literal, physical altering of reality.

Ultimately, the song is a desperate plea for grounding, a search for truth, and an agonizing attempt to differentiate between merely physically surviving and actually being alive.

The narrative plunges into the fragmented mind of someone who feels entirely disconnected from their former self and the world around them. They gaze inward, terrified that the changes they perceive are entirely self-inflicted, forcing them into a state of profound existential doubt. As they desperately search for the missing piece of their identity, an overwhelming sense of monotony takes hold. Every single day bleeds into the next, entirely indistinguishable from the last. They begin to attribute these feelings to the literal chemicals in their brain, suggesting an intense psychological struggle that warps their perception of reality until they feel trapped inside a digital simulation.

Their outward expressions are frozen, revealing the internal decay they cannot hide. They ask themselves if they are merely existing in a self-constructed purgatory, wondering if their daily survival can even be classified as truly living, or if it is just a mechanical process of breathing. This severe emotional numbness brings about a terrifying question: what if none of this is real? What if all the pain and suffering is simply an elaborate illusion, a game of make-believe?

They wander aimlessly, completely devoid of hope and looking for any tangible reason to keep moving forward. Haunted by past traumas and terrifying visions, they frantically wonder if anyone else in the world experiences this same agonizing detachment. As the internal monologue intensifies, the imagery becomes increasingly technological. They feel as though their mind is glitching, failing to maintain a stable connection to the physical world. They wonder what happens when the game finally concludes; will there be a final revelation, or just an unplugged void?

The realization that perhaps they were never fully plugged in to begin with leaves them staring at a black screen that suddenly flashes violently to red, symbolizing an overwhelming wave of suppressed rage and panic breaking through the numbness. Ultimately, they are left begging for an answer, trapped in the limbo between physical survival and psychological death, desperate to wake up from a dream that refuses to end.

On February 18, 2022, Memphis May Fire released Make Believe as the seventh consecutive single leading up to their seventh studio album, Remade in Misery (released on June 3, 2022). The song was written by vocalist Matty Mullins, guitarist Kellen McGregor, and Cody Quistad, with production handled by McGregor and Cameron Mizell. The track emerged during a highly prolific and restorative period for the band.

Lead vocalist Matty Mullins explicitly noted that Make Believe held a special place for him, diverging slightly from the band's traditional sound. Drawing deeply from his own experiences with mental health struggles and therapy, Mullins explained that the song was born out of the concept of enduring so much pain that one begins to lose their grip on reality. To put action behind the song's message, the band released a special 'Not the Same' charity t-shirt alongside the single, donating 100% of the proceeds to The Refuge Center For Counseling in Franklin, Tennessee, to support affordable mental health services.

The song utilizes a relatively straightforward rhyme scheme, predominantly alternating between AABB and AAAA structures in the verses, heavily relying on perfect rhymes (e.g., be/me, believe/piece, same/brain, simulation/creation/damnation). This tight, predictable rhyming structure creates a cyclical, repetitive feel, echoing the lyrical sentiment of feeling like every day is the same.

Rhythmically, the track features the syncopated, driving drum patterns characteristic of metalcore. The verses often rely on a staccato rhythm that mimics the mechanical, glitching theme, while the choruses open up into a more expansive, anthemic 4/4 meter. The interplay between the rigid, almost robotic musical rhythm during the electronic segments and the chaotic, crashing cymbals during the breakdowns emphasizes the conflict between numb routine and sheer terror.

Musically, the song employs dynamic instrumentation to reflect its thematic instability. The track is built on a foundation of modern metalcore, but it prominently features mechanized samples and industrial, electronic flourishes. These synthetic sounds act as a sonic manifestation of the simulation metaphor, making the music itself feel slightly artificial or glitchy.

Matty Mullins' vocal delivery is highly versatile, utilizing clean, soaring, and melodic tones during the verses and choruses to convey vulnerability and exhaustion. However, as the song reaches its peak emotional distress, particularly during the heavy, bludgeoning breakdowns, his voice transitions into visceral, abrasive screams, representing the rupture of the protagonist's numbness. The contrasting dynamics between the atmospheric, almost quiet moments and the crushing guitar riffs perfectly mirror the internal battle of panic and dissociation.

Released as part of a highly successful nine-single rollout strategy, Make Believe generated immense anticipation for the album Remade in Misery. The song and its accompanying Matrix-inspired music video resonated deeply with fans, particularly as it dealt with themes of isolation, mental health, and the feeling of living the same day over and over. The song's cultural impact was most significantly felt in its tangible contribution to mental health advocacy. By tying the single's release to a charity t-shirt campaign that donated 100% of proceeds to The Refuge Center For Counseling, Memphis May Fire solidified their legacy as a band deeply committed to using their platform to provide real-world assistance to those battling the very demons described in their music.

The lyrics rely heavily on technological and digital metaphors to articulate the feeling of dissociation. The recurring imagery of a simulation and glitching in and out represents the clinical experience of derealization, where the world feels unreal, artificial, or distorted. The idea of being plugged in or someone forgetting to plug the narrator in symbolizes a profound disconnect from the human experience.

The powerful metaphor of the screen is black and now I'm seeing red shifts the imagery from the technological to the visceral. The black screen signifies emotional numbness and depressive emptiness, while seeing red represents the sudden, uncontrollable surge of panic, anger, or breakdown that often shatters a dissociative state. Furthermore, the question Am I living in my own creation? acts as a metaphor for the isolation of mental illness, suggesting the narrator is trapped in a mental prison built by their own mind.

The most prominent recurring motif is the rhetorical question: Is it make-believe? and its variations (Is this all a dream?). Repeated throughout the choruses, this phrase serves as the desperate anchor of the song, emphasizing the narrator's inability to trust their own perception. Another vital recurring line is Am I alive or am I just breathing?. This phrase strikes at the core of depression, repeating to highlight the stark difference between biological survival and meaningful human existence. The repetition of chemicals inside my brain serves as a grounding motif, constantly reminding the listener that this existential crisis has a biological, internal source rather than an external one.