

Dark, dark, taunt, bitter,
play, and loot, Hell,
old wrath, and itchy behavior at the root.
Bone, I'll try, blue juices I'll buy,
Mid, I'll frost it,
reopen, zip, dot by dot and eye by eye.
Remove the button, I'll buy the piece,
Something's not good, the tension won't cease.
Someone's gonna die, no more bullshit games,
I'll play the tunes out and call out the names!
I'll get inside that,
fuck off and get out,
Clearing the air with a sovereign shout!
{gritty fingerpicked acoustic driving rhythm} No more treats...
In the machine... No more treats...
In the machine... I'll slide across to where the wild things stay,
Be-beautiful things, things running my way!
{stuttering
glitching vocal chops}
I've been doing bills,
bills, bills getting things in line!
So I'm a mouse and I'm looking for cheese every time!
I side-eye the trees and I watch what they mean,
And I just might break the whole damn machine!
From the bubblegum pink to the deepest electric-soft blue,
This is the hyper-alive rhythm called Tiguidou!
{stadium explosion} No more treats in the machine,
No more treats where the cogs have been.
(Un, deux, trois, quatre — feel the cellular temperature rise!) Breaking the
glass right in front of our eyes!
(Cinq, six, sept, huit —
every nerve ending sparkling bright!) We are the architects bathing the world
in a hyper-pink light!
{quantum feminine build} Absolute feminist sovereignty.
Absolute internal magic.
Tara, Captain Quinn, and the hyper-tuned crew.
{acoustic
strum
meets metallic
machine shutdown} {tiguidou seal lock}