Intro | spoken, close-mic]
Objective: record.
Side quest: digress.
I abhor and admire the digression.

[Verse 1 | trip-hop, half-sung/half-spoken]
I’m in a tight space, chasing a clean take,
But I keep making doorways out of every mistake.
Transgression? no, digression, same nerve, different dress,
A loop that folds the map while I’m trying to progress.

Krell rig Mk Seven, wires like vines in a storm,
DIRP to the A-136, make the plain wave deform.
Dura-Analog Glide, let the pitch lean and sway,
I’m tuning the wander, not chasing “right” anyway.

I put on the back-catalog, the slag heap, the floor,
Work-in-Progress, Cutting Room Floor of Inattention, encore.
Three tracks to the group chat, tossed like sparks in the air,
Not polished, just honest, with a little burnt hair.

[Hook | short, sticky, minimal melody]
Abhor and admire the digression,
My best mistakes get a second confession.
Abhor and admire, then back to the mission,
But the mission keeps growing a new definition.

[Verse 2 | proto-rap, more percussive]
Ouroboros of miscommunication, bite the tail, grin,
Speech-to-text did a somersault, let the weirdness in.
I said “Colloquium.” full stop. like a stamp on the page,
It heard “Lacremonde” and built a whole new stage.

Now the defect is the artifact, the skip is the scar,
The lyric in quotes vanished, left a hole like a star.
Test transmission, imperfect, but that’s the point, that’s the proof,
No one blames the watercolor when it runs off the roof.

Two instances, same prompt, both cut above the rest,
Not “generations” like Darwin, just versions I blessed.
So I don’t have to choose one, like a courtroom or a knife,
I can let each one live a different album life.

[Bridge | airy, sincere then ironic]
Sincere and ironic, I oscillate in place,
A metamodern metronome wearing two faces.
Civic capitalism, pulsars in my peripheral,
While I solder a meaning out of something ephemeral.

[Break | instrumental, 8 bars]
(Drums drop to kick + hat. Bass stays. Add modular chirps like a handshake protocol.)

[Final Verse | spoken-word, “Dr Morbius transmission”]
This is Dr Morbius.
First voice, faster-than-light, improvised and alive.
Altair to Terra.
If you receive this, forgive the dropouts.
The machine is learning my mouth.
The message is the medium.
The medium is… (glitch)

[Outro | whispered, then silence]
Objective: record.
Side quest: digress.
I abhor and admire the digression.