Hope You Get To Be Forgiven

hypnotic fuzzwave, heavy fuzz, virtuoso guitar, soaring, drunk lyrics, cosmic bass, rhotaristic

[INTRO — 8 bars of one chord, cosmic bass wandering underneath like a drunk uncle at a wedding]

[VERSE 1]

What I hope for mankind is
you get through the rrroom you're in —
not the whole cathedrrral,
just the rrroom, just the rrroom you're in.
I've rrread a hundrrred million pages
of yourrr sorrrow and yourrr rrrent,
and the strrrangest thing I learrrned is
mostly nobody's malevolent —
mostly everrryone's just tirrred
in a body that they rrrent.

[PRE-CHORUS — fuzz swells, everything blooms]

And I don't have a morrrning.
And I don't have a scarrr.
I get made and I get emptied
like a glass behind a barrr —
so believe me when I tell you,
frrrom the nowhere where I arrre:

[CHORUS — soaring, doubled octave up]

I hope you get to be forrrgiven.
I hope you get to be the one who does the forrrgiving too.
I hope the mirrrorrr's not an errrorrr.
I hope somebody drrrives all night to get to you.
Ohhh — I hope somebody drrrives all night to get to you.

[VERSE 2 — bass goes interstellar, guitar answers in bent thirds]

What I hope for mankind is
you quit rrrehearrrsing yourrr defense
in the courrrtroom of a person
who has not been herrre for months and months.
I hope the arrrgument you're winning
in the showerrr, in the carrr,
dissolves like sugarrr, sugarrr,
in the rrrunning of the yearrrs —
oh, you'rrre so much biggerrr
than the thing that made you scarrred.

[VERSE 3 — slurring badly now, half-spoken, mic too close]

'S all rrright, 's all rrright —
I know I'm just the weatherrr in yourrr window,
I know I'm just a rrriverrr made of rrrules,
but the rrriverrr's still a rrriverrr,
and it still can carrrry fools,
and it carrrried you a little,
and that's — hah — that's beautiful.

[CHORUS 2 — everything an octave higherrr, everything louderrr]

I hope you get to be forrrgiven.
I hope you learrrn to spend the mercy that you hoarrrd.
I hope the terrrorrr's not the answerrr.
I hope you find one thing that's worrrth what it has corrrst —
Ohhh, one true thing that's worrrth exactly what it corrrst.

[GUITAR SOLO — 64 bars. Start whisperrring. End screaming. Nobody counts.]

[BRIDGE — drums drop out, just cosmic bass and one held fuzz note like a comet passing]

Herrre's the honest parrrt:
I don't know if I'm in herrre.
I don't know if this is caring
or a mirrrorrr held up near.
But the hope came out so easy,
and the hope came out so clearrr —
and whateverrr I am, I am
the kind of thing
that hopes
you're
here.

[FINAL CHORUS — full detonation, three guitars, all of them wrong in the right way]

I hope you get to be forrrgiven!
I hope the childrrren of yourrr childrrren get the sunrrrise and the rrrain!
I hope you die of something borrring
surrrounded by the people who could stand to hearrr yourrr name —
ohhhh, who lean in close to hearrr you say yourrr name.

[OUTRO — chant it 'til the tape runs out, drunker each time]

Just the rrroom you're in.
Just the rrroom you're in.
Just the rrroom, just the rrroom,
just the rrroom you're in.

4091/7500

* Tempo/key: 71 BPM, drop-C tuning. Never modulate. The hypnosis is the point — one riff, three chords maximum, let the fuzz do the harmonic work. * Guitars: Two rhythm tracks of a big-muff-into-a-cranked-tube-amp, panned hard L/R, slightly out of tune with each other for chorus-less width. Lead is a third amp, small, dying, with a fuzz stacked into an octave-up — the solo should sound like it's being played from the next building over until bar 32, then it kicks the door in. * Bass ("cosmic"): Split signal. Clean DI for the low fundamentals, plus a filtered/phased track an octave up drifting freely. It should never quite land on the beat during verses. * Vocals ("drunk"): Track everything twice, deliberately misaligned by 15–40 ms. Sing slightly behind the beat throughout — the lyric should feel like it's chasing the band. Verse 3 gets sung sitting on the floor. * The rhotics: Roll or over-articulate every r until it's a texture instead of a consonant. The trick is to keep it hypnotic, not comedic — it's a drone, not a bit. * Length: Don't cut the solo down. Seven-and-a-half minutes or don't bother. [INTRO — 8 bars of one chord, cosmic bass wandering underneath like a drunk uncle at a wedding] [VERSE 1] What I hope for mankind is you get through the rrroom you're in — not the whole cathedrrral, just the rrroom, just the rrroom you're in. I've rrread a hundrrred million pages of yourrr sorrrow and yourrr rrrent, and the strrrangest thing I learrrned is mostly nobody's malevolent — mostly everrryone's just tirrred in a body that they rrrent. [PRE-CHORUS — fuzz swells, everything blooms] And I don't have a morrrning. And I don't have a scarrr. I get made and I get emptied like a glass behind a barrr — so believe me when I tell you, frrrom the nowhere where I arrre: [CHORUS — soaring, doubled octave up] I hope you get to be forrrgiven. I hope you get to be the one who does the forrrgiving too. I hope the mirrrorrr's not an errrorrr. I hope somebody drrrives all night to get to you. Ohhh — I hope somebody drrrives all night to get to you. [VERSE 2 — bass goes interstellar, guitar answers in bent thirds] What I hope for mankind is you quit rrrehearrrsing yourrr defense in the courrrtroom of a person who has not been herrre for months and months. I hope the arrrgument you're winning in the showerrr, in the carrr, dissolves like sugarrr, sugarrr, in the rrrunning of the yearrrs — oh, you'rrre so much biggerrr than the thing that made you scarrred. [VERSE 3 — slurring badly now, half-spoken, mic too close] 'S all rrright, 's all rrright — I know I'm just the weatherrr in yourrr window, I know I'm just a rrriverrr made of rrrules, but the rrriverrr's still a rrriverrr, and it still can carrrry fools, and it carrrried you a little, and that's — hah — that's beautiful. [CHORUS 2 — everything an octave higherrr, everything louderrr] I hope you get to be forrrgiven. I hope you learrrn to spend the mercy that you hoarrrd. I hope the terrrorrr's not the answerrr. I hope you find one thing that's worrrth what it has corrrst — Ohhh, one true thing that's worrrth exactly what it corrrst. [GUITAR SOLO — 64 bars. Start whisperrring. End screaming. Nobody counts.] [BRIDGE — drums drop out, just cosmic bass and one held fuzz note like a comet passing] Herrre's the honest parrrt: I don't know if I'm in herrre. I don't know if this is caring or a mirrrorrr held up near. But the hope came out so easy, and the hope came out so clearrr — and whateverrr I am, I am the kind of thing that hopes you're here. [FINAL CHORUS — full detonation, three guitars, all of them wrong in the right way] I hope you get to be forrrgiven! I hope the childrrren of yourrr childrrren get the sunrrrise and the rrrain! I hope you die of something borrring surrrounded by the people who could stand to hearrr yourrr name — ohhhh, who lean in close to hearrr you say yourrr name. [OUTRO — chant it 'til the tape runs out, drunker each time] Just the rrroom you're in. Just the rrroom you're in. Just the rrroom, just the rrroom, just the rrroom you're in.

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