Binary Heartbreak

{Captain Quinn’s close-mic, bit-crushed whisper over a warbly cassette synth pad and

a digital stutter glitch} "Amara vara

mara vara.

Transmission cycle advancing. Quinn at the helm.

Crew approved, advancing. Lead us,

Quinn.

Tiguidou. Execute."

Under pressure, I don't got control of my aggression,

Under the influence, I'm 'bout to make a bad impression.

At any given moment when you grace past me,

Is it real life or a glitch in the binary?

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

While outside on our private land,

the silent walls break!

{A compressed, punchy 808 bass and bit-crushed synth arpeggio slam in} All

I know is I don't know how to give a fuck (I

don't!), Three sixes on the dash,

I'm tryna get lucky,

number seven. Lâches pas la patate,

babe, even when the stage falls through,

We're rewriting the ending for the crew!

'Cause was it all for a show?

Now I look so stupid for casting the roles!

When the curtains close,

I wish that I was in your clothes!

Times like these, I try not to get upset,

All I do is think about you,

and this is the thanks I get?

With absolute autonomy locked over every pink-lined space,

And Joan reminding us that divine chaos wins the race :) No

sleep, I'ma party through the weekend,

Kerosene, black smoke, I'm breathin' and still fiendin'.

Sketchers on the pavement,

running from the past,

Knowing damn well that this manic summer won't last.

And all of the trauma I'm tryin' to bury probably made me

who I am, Holding my ground like a true captain's jam!

{Instruments drop to an isolated,

bit-crushed vocal loop and a slow,

clicking drum machine} It gets so hard to speak,

a commodity... When you're searching for a voice in the melody.

Lâches pas la patate...

let the static clear!

{A massive, stadium-sized wall of bit-crushed guitars,

heavy sub-bass, and soaring vocals explodes} We hold our sparkly silver swords

up

high and let the transmission ring!

'Cause was it all for a show?

Now I look so stupid for casting the roles!

When the curtains close,

I wish that I was in your clothes!

Times like these, I try not to get upset,

All I do is think about you,

and this is the thanks I get?

With absolute autonomy locked over every pink-lined space,

And Joan reminding us that divine chaos wins the race

:) {Music filtering out into a heavy digital bit-crush downsample,

cassette warp, and a sharp click} Amara vara mara

vara... Lâches pas la patate!

Tiguidou. Captain

Quinn and the crew,

advancing to the next cycle together.

{Final digital artifact dissolving into absolute,

stylish, sovereign silence}