[ begin with crescendo-level, effects-processed “guitar storm” sound wall / segue + downshift after line 2 ]
Gree(eeeee)n feathers grow on this world!
As whi(iiii)te paper darts pierce your skin!
Pixelated birds, let it out… but then we let it in(nnn), again
Done asking why we’re falling through the sky,
So we fly from sight (we’re)
Like passing cars in the night — is any of this real?
[ drums/bass unwind double-time cadence but remain bouncy thru slack tempo (dissonance) ]
It’s on it’s on, like Don(n)-key Kong
Surround. Stop. Run away,
Ah you just fly-away home…
To where the weather got you high, it got you low
Now you’re stuck between the parallel lines,
It’s raining zeros and ones
And it’s starting to… show.
[ inject two 4/5 odd-time measures (10-beat double)—swayable rhythm to subtly confuse the listener ]
So(oooo)lar systems, lives, and yard sales,
Last ti(iiii)me you were here, the main reactor failed:
Is-o-topes falling out,
So we stand and let ’em in(nnn) again…
Bitter Geiger counter—sing to me, then…
Sing to me…
’cause I’ve been mixing advanced technology with primitive longings
For too long… so drive on (to)
badge a lightwave that needs you
writing code to complete you
For too long; so lo(oooooo)ng… oh, whoa-ohhhhh
[ repeating line 12 2x to 3x, vaguely circular ‘invisible sun’ chant then abruptly return to origin in next stanza ]
Last ti(iiii)me you were here we learned about betrayal
Without knowing the hammer, you introduced the nail:
You flicked your cigarette and then it hit me
The distant thunder of a new mass movement
All dissidents and phantoms of mutiny, upheaval—
Substitutions for hoary vices, but it’s us who’re evil?
Like diamonds-a-glinting on the 23rd century?
[ end sardonic / cynical tone, re-enter ominous final peak energy ]
Where NATIONS! COLLIDE!
I ripped my stitches in the fight…
Is any of this real?
[ no time to give a damn if ‘real’ or not—blitz into final stanza w/ ghostly call-and-response between lead+backup vox ]
On choncho ON, to some great beyond
Sensors hot, glow, run away…
Ace of spades, sun, fade-away…
Memories—edit and decay…
Try to hyper-speed it up (when)
Truth slows down, drifts and turns around
Catch a glimpse as it runs away
Oh they just fly-away… home.