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The way you flip your hair,
the system starts to stare,
While talking 'bout your man,
and I pretend I care.
He lies like a politician,
a glitch in the routine,
Tired of the apologies,
destroying what you mean.
Tiguidou-Quinn watching through the digital haze,
Trapped in the repetition of the summer days.
{Vocal: Sharp, confidential, cutting through a
distorted 8-bit lead} *I wish I knew,
I wish I knew how to tell that I need you!*
I wish I knew how to show you all the things I
do. The punk-rock junkie state,
the pixelated view, Everything is mapped inside the name of Tiguidou!
*I wish I knew,
I wish I knew how to tell you what you mean to
me!*
Breaking down the static to set the feeling free.
{Vocal: Explosive, multi-tracked, pop-punk anthemic delivery} (System-State:
Overloaded)
(Input: The Raw Lyric)
*Planes, trains, cars—I'd walk a thousand miles,*
Through the urban canopy and concrete aisles.
(Amara vara /
Protocol secure)
(Dohaeris to the heart that remains pure!)
{Vocal:
Rapid-fire glitch-stutter, dropping
into a
cold, composed spoken-word} I wish I knew...
Tiguidou Quinn. [SAVE-CLICK.] {Vocal: Fading into a
pristine,
high-frequency digital
tone. Final hit: The sound of a clean
system save-file click.}