(Intro) (The track starts with a frantic, aggressive acoustic guitar strumming pattern—heavy on the downstrokes, using open chords with a lot of fret buzz. A rhythmic, hollow "thump" comes from the palm hitting the guitar body on every first and third beat.) (Verse 1) (Vocal Pitch: Gritty, strained, and snotty; delivered with a rapid-fire, breathless cadence) Three chords and a plywood box, I'm screaming at the wall Waiting for the structural integrity to fall I sold the amp to pay the rent, I threw the pick away Now I’m bleeding on the fretboard just to get through one more day (Vocal Pitch: Shifting to a higher, more desperate rasp) There’s no distortion pedal for the static in my head I’m waking up the ghosts of every word I never said The coffee’s cold, the strings are old, the binary is broken But I’m a high-speed riot and the truth is being spoken! (Chorus) (Vocal Pitch: High-energy shout, anthemic and raw; group-vocal style "Whoa-ohs") WE DON'T NEED THE VOLTAGE! WE DON'T NEED THE WIRE! We’re building up the kinetic in a hollow-bodied fire! Strip it to the timber! Tear it to the bone! The loudest sound you’ll ever hear is standing all alone! (Vocal Pitch: Barked) ONE! TWO! THREE! FOUR! (Verse 2) (Vocal Pitch: Low, percussive, and rhythmic "chopper" style; building intensity) Check the bridge, check the nut, check the cut in the gut I’m a DIY disaster in a psychological rut I navigate the intricate, the intimate is infinite The benefit is evident, the sentiment is militant (Vocal Pitch: High-pitched, staccato, sounding like a frantic signal) Innovate the innovate, I’m building the predicate Elevate the estimate, I’m holding the etiquette Of a savage, a ravage, a package of the damage And I’m managed by the vantage of the carnage I can scavenge! (Vocal Pitch: Returning to a gritty, mid-range snarl) I’m a splinter in the system, I’m a crack in the design And I’m reclaiming every second that was never really mine! (Bridge) (The music drops to a single, muted string being plucked like a ticking clock.) (Vocal Pitch: Low, rhythmic whisper; building volume) First comes the friction. Then comes the spark. Then comes the melody. In the middle of the dark. (Vocal Pitch: Sudden, throat-tearing scream) TURN IT UP! (Acoustic Solo) (A messy, high-speed solo full of sliding power chords, aggressive percussive hits on the wood, and a frantic rhythm that sounds like the guitar is about to break.) (Chorus) (Vocal Pitch: High-energy shout, anthemic and raw) WE DON'T NEED THE VOLTAGE! WE DON'T NEED THE WIRE! We’re building up the kinetic in a hollow-bodied fire! Strip it to the timber! Tear it to the bone! The loudest sound you’ll ever hear is standing all alone! (Outro) (Vocal Pitch: Barked out, fading over the sound of aggressive strumming) No masters! No chains! Just the wood... And the veins! (The guitar finishes with a final, massive downstroke that rings out with heavy dissonance before being abruptly silenced by a hand muting the strings.)
