Harpsichord Sanctuary

Harpsichord strings in the digital rain,

Chasing the pulse of an industrial train.

Gothic cathedrals of bass and of light,

Washing the static away in the night.

Tiguidou-Quinn at the console of sound,

Where the rhythm of future and past is found.

*Oh, spin the harpsichord,

drop the deep bass!* Gothic romance in a techno-space.

House music moving the structural floor,

Opening up the definitive door.

Everything engineered, everything true,

Mastered to perfection in the name of Tiguidou!

*I bridge the centuries,

I bridge the beat,*

Making the sonic machinery complete.

(Amara vara

/ Protocol aligned)

(Dohaeris to the future we designed!)

Tiguidou.

Quinn.

Cycle complete.