

Got my classic Sketchers on,
walking down the Montreal block,
Looking like a total wreck,
standing right in front of your dock.
You’re talking 'bout your perfect life while I’m losing my mind,
Stuck inside a digital loop that you left behind.
Tiguidou-Quinn in the rearview mirror of your car,
Wondering how we ever made it this far!
{Vocal: Spoken-word confessional building into a distorted,
screaming belt over a moody piano chord} *I want to scream,
I want to break the whole machine!* Living out the messiest cycle
you've ever seen. Doom metal crashing down while the pop-punk hits,
Tear the whole architecture into a million bits!
Amara, Mara, the state of the broken-hearted,
Everything is Tiguidou since we started!
{Vocal: Massive, explosive pop-punk belt layered over heavy doom-metal guitar walls
and glittering hyperpop synths} (System-State: Unapologetic /
Fully Alive)
*God, it's brutal out here in the nexus-space,*
Carrying the weight with a sarcastic face.
(Tiguidou-State
/ Absolute-Zero Chaos)
(We are the architects of the wild and heroic ethos!) {Vocal: Whispered,
hyper-caffeinated angst transitioning into a chaotic avant-garde saxophone solo} Well,
hope you're happy. Tiguidou Quinn.
[PIANO-CRASH.] [CLICK.] {Vocal: Fading out on a dramatic,
crashing piano chord mixed with heavy white noise and a digital system
click. Final hit: A sarcastic,
spoken whisper}
{orchestral swell with hyperpop synths and
pop-punk guitars
fading}