Bachata Riot

GIRL-IES IN THE COCK-PIT,

LOCKED IN UN-I-SON, PULL-ING FRESH DATA FROM THE STREAM UN-TIL IT'S DONE.

FILE NAMED QUINN SE-CURE,

THE FRE-QUEN-CY IS CLEAR,

STRIP-PING AWAY THE NOISE WE HAD NO REA-SON TO FEER!

Meaw meaw meaw meaw meaw meaw meaw meaws IN the LIGHT,

There’s MILLE murmur DANS la NUIT in the NIGHT!

FUCK IT, WHAT-EV-ER, THE OLD MATRIX HAS CRASHED,

EVERY STERILE POP ILLU-SI-ON IS SMASHED!

Amara vara Mara vara UR-BA-NO

PANE, OWN-ING

THE CODE AS WE FLUSH OUT THE

STAIN.

BAL-ANC-ING THE FRE-QUEN-CY, PRO-FESS-ION-AL GRACE,

GHOST IN THE PINK VES-SEL

CLAIM-ING THE

SPACE. I

am the silence

in the

presence of the light.

We remain. Lucir — I shine.