[Intro]
[phone-mic ambience, tape hiss, low spoken voice]
This is a declaration.
Nobody is listening. That's the point.
Roll it anyway.

[Verse 1]
I cut these letters from your headlines,
Pasted crooked, spelled it wrong,
A ransom note with no demands —
Keep whatever's already gone.
Shot it on the phone I sleep with,
In whatever town I'm in,
Fed my friends, caught the métro —
The film cost nothing. Roll it in.

[Chorus]
peliculeOpportùn —
Say it wrong, it's still the law.
Anything goes in the junkbox,
Nothing goes in the drawer.
X marks a spot nobody's digging —
That, my friend, is what it's for.

[Verse 2]
No certificate of nerve and gland,
No provenance, no seal,
Half of this was dreamt by silicon —
You tell me which half's real.
I licensed every pixel
From an elephant asleep;
Silence taken as consent, love —
The paperwork comes cheap.

[Chorus]
peliculeOpportùn —
Say it wrong, it's still the law.
Anything goes in the junkbox,
Nothing goes in the drawer.
X marks a spot nobody's digging —
That, my friend, is what it's for.

[Break]
[Spoken Word, cut-up fragments, tape splices between clauses]
Clause one: zero marginal cost.
Clause two: anything goes.
Clause three: the blend is legal.
Clause four: missing.
Clause five: post before you polish.
Clause six: the product is manure. Well formed. Still steaming.
Signed — whoever finds this map.

[Bridge]
[percussion drops out, single detuned guitar]
And if one day some stranger
Digs it up and presses play —
That's not why I made it.
But I hoped it anyway.

[Final Chorus]
[fuller, harmony layer, junk percussion returns]
peliculeOpportùn —
Say it wrong, it's still the law.
Anything goes in the junkbox,
Nothing goes in the drawer.
X marks a spot nobody's digging —
That, my friend, is what it's for.
(That's what the burying is for.)

[Outro]
[tape slows, hiss rises over last line]
Nobody is listening.
Roll credits anyway.

[Fade Out]