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{flamenco nylon rasgueados against punk power chords,
deep sub bloom}
Archangel Michael, give me sword and shield,
As we harvest the magic of the occult field!
The grimoires are open,
the parchment is thin,
We’re rewriting the biology under my skin.
With a flick of lip gloss and a devastating smirk,
Watch how the bio-hypnotic frequencies work.
Fast as a heartbeat,
sharp as a knife,
We’re laying down tracks for a Tiguidou life!
Like a phantom on stage with a wink and a tear,
Like a spark in the stadium shaking the gear,
We’re dialing the estrogen up to the max,
Clearing the static and burning the tracks!
{flurry of blazing Spanish flamenco guitar arpeggios colliding with relentless punk drums}
Fingertips tracing the curves in the dark,
Kindling a hormonal, mystical spark.
Finasteride whispers, progesterone dreams,
Dissolving the boundaries and tearing the seams!
*Un, deux, trois, quatre* — feel the endocrine tide,
Nowhere for the old architecture to hide!
{swelling velvet synth pads,
intimate whispered cadence} *Pour the estrogen down like a velvet-pink wine!* *We’re
aligning the stars, we’re rewriting the line!* From the flamenco sorrow to
the bubblegum scream, We are melting the shell,
we are living the dream!
With a touch of the archangel,
a dash of the occult,
Look at the softness,
behold the result! From the bubblegum pink to the deepest electric-soft blue,
This is the bio-hypnotic rhythm called Tiguidou!
{stadium-sized flamenco handclaps and punk explosion} Laying down jazz-inflected grooves on the
floor, Sliding right through the unlocked studio door.
Snapping the rhythm with style and with grace,
While we put glitter all over our face!
Crying out deep where the asphalt meets heat,
As the flamenco nylon and punk-rock guitars meet.
(Cinq, six, sept, huit — every hormone ablaze!) We are walking right
out of the masculine haze!
Soft skin, sweet breath,
and a blossoming chest,
We didn't just study — we over-excelled and confessed!
{jazz-inflected grooves, radical metamorphosis state}
Absolute feminine sovereignty.
Absolute bio-sonic magic.
Tara, Captain Quinn, and the hyper-tuned crew.
{blazing flamenco strum fading into warm estrogen pulse}