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{Captain Quinn’s smooth, smiling whisper over a shimmering synth arpeggio,
a smoky saxophone lick,
and a crisp snap} Amara vara mara vara.
Lâches pas la patate!
Quinn and the crew at the helm.
We hold the line in full glam.
Execute.
Lipgloss sparkling while we drop the societal line,
Laughing at the boxes where they try to make us shine.
Who would you be if there was no one keeping score?
Throwing off the templates that we don't believe in more.
Inside the pink room it's freezing for safety's sweet sake,
While outside on our private land,
the rules begin to break!
{A heavy, pulsing 808 bass and sultry saxophone drop in beneath bubbly,
high-gloss synth chords} Your taste,
your weight, your clothes—they're just a phantom game,
Everybody's self-obsessed and won't remember your name!
Lâches pas la patate,
babe, don't you ever give up the fight,
We're glowing through the chaos and we're owning the night!
'Cause nobody really cares!
Crash the car and tear the page,
Step outside the safety of the engineered cage.
Cut your hair off,
break the mold, throw your phone right in the sea,
Living out the Tiguidou philosophy!
With absolute autonomy locked over every pink-lined space,
And Joan reminding us that divine chaos wins the race :) Rule
number one: keep your standards pristine,
While looking like the cutest disaster ever seen.
Catch a flight to San Francisco,
start a wild commotion,
Take your clothes off in the rain and watch it feed the
ocean. We left the ancient forest for a chic roof overhead,
Now we own our private property and laugh at what they said.
{Instruments drop to absolute silence except for a smooth,
smoky sax lick and close-mic vocals} Talk is cheap and it's okay
to be a little scared,
When you realize the whole wide world is acting unprepared.
Lâches pas la patate...
hold on tight to who you are!
{A massive, stadium-sized wave of distorted guitars,
saxophone, and heavy sub-bass explodes} We hold our sparkly silver swords up
high and let the freedom ring...
{Glittering pop-synth leads
and smoky neo-soul saxophone colliding with heavy emo-trap guitar riffs}
'Cause nobody really cares!
Crash the car and tear the page,
Step outside the safety of the engineered cage.
Cut your hair off,
break the mold, throw your phone right in the sea,
Living out the Tiguidou philosophy!
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, a smoky saxophone fade,
and a clean digital click} Amara vara mara vara...
Lâches pas la patate!
Tiguidou... Captain Quinn and the crew,
leading the way forward together.
{Final fading chord dissolving into absolute,
stylish, unstoppable silence}