Glassheart Corridor

{Captain Quinn’s smooth, sparkling

whisper over a shimmering,

icy synth arpeggio and a glossy snap} "Professional code-of-conduct transmission engaged.

Quinn at the helm.

Here are the rules for living the Tiguidou life in full glam.

Let's execute." Lipgloss sparkling through a tear about the void,

Laughing so hard at the mess we deployed!

Rule number one: keep your standards pristine,

While looking like the cutest disaster ever seen.

Inside the pink box it's freezing for safety's sweet sake,

Building little diamond kingdoms that are bound to break.

{A heavy, pulsing 808 bass drops in beneath bubbly,

high-gloss synth chords} Rule number two:

when the cosmos doesn't have a plan,

Just wear your platform boots and do the best you can!

Oh,

you can laugh as hard as you cry when the world spins

out of gear! Wielding our sparkly silver swords to slash right through

the air. Inside we try to rest,

outside we breathe the smoke and fire,

Dancing on the glitter of a meaningless desire!

With absolute autonomy locked over every pink-lined space,

And Joan reminding us that divine chaos wins the race :) Rule

number three: guard your boundaries and your private land,

Holding your cigarette with an elegant,

steady hand. A raw existential architecture built on shifting ground,

Where every hollow echo is the cutest truth we've found.

We left the ancient forest for a chic roof overhead,

Now we pace our private properties pretending we're misled.

{Instruments drop to absolute silence except for a music-box melody and close-mic

vocals} Rule number four: never apologize for taking up space,

Just smile through the void with absolute grace.

{A massive, stadium-sized wave of distorted guitars and heavy sub-bass explodes}

We hold our meaningless swords up high and let the girlie instructions

ring... {Glittering pop-synth leads colliding with heavy,

melancholic emo-trap guitar

riffs} Oh, you can laugh as hard as you cry when the

world spins out of gear!

Wielding our sparkly silver swords to slash right through the air.

Inside we try to rest,

outside we breathe the smoke and fire,

Dancing on the glitter of a meaningless desire!

With absolute autonomy locked over every pink-lined space,

And Joan reminding us that divine chaos wins the race :) {Music

filtering out into an icy,

sparkling synth tail and a clean digital click} Tiguidou...

Captain Quinn and the crew signing off on the rulebook.

{Final fading chord dissolving into

absolute, stylish silence}