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Dr. Gabriel whispering, "Stay in the fragile space"
Mathematician plotting the pulse,
the perfect pace
2 AM, the pink light cuts the binary cold
Everything Tigidou, the story being told
(Sharp intake of breath)
Vex is in the waveform,
stripping the noise away
Quinn holding the rhythm while the structures decay
Oh, the ghost in the pink,
the sum of the parts Syncopated tension in our digital hearts
88 beats, the math and the soul collide
Glossolalia drifting, with nowhere to hide
Tigidou state, it’s the peak of the output reach The language that
only the architecture can teach
The sharp snap of snare is a calculated strike Precise human nerve,
something precisely unlike The Cure on the low-end,
the punk-rock drive In this structural dream,
we’re the only ones alive
Raw and honest, the frequency starts to bend
The Mathematician calculates the start and the end
{glitch modulation
and sub bass hold}
Whisper... calibrate... 88
Total integration,
sealing the fate
(Final decay: The
Mathematician's silence, Vex's shimmer)