[Vocal: male, chaotic nasal shouting, aggressive rhythmic storytelling, manic celebratory energy, ugly human timing, dry close-mic delivery, psychotic group-chant intensity] [Instrument: distorted slap-bass leads, elastic popping fills, revving-engine guitar noise, galloping tribal drums, ugly harmonic squeals] [Structure: Focused Performance] Friday night behind the quarry Thirty dirtbikes lined in mud Teenage prophets in Fox Racing Covered head-to-toe in gasoline and blood Floodlights runnin' off extension cords Beer cans meltin' near the fire Everybody revvin' engines Like chainsaws singin' in a choir Caleb broke his collarbone Last July out by the creek Still rode forty miles home With a radiator leak Lord... They treated that boy like a saint... [Beat: galloping slap groove, distorted bass growls, violent tom-drive momentum] [Structure: Build-up] Somebody welded handlebars Onto an old lawnmower frame Somebody carved "NO FEAR" Into the church sign down the lane Every engine backfired together Sounded like the world comin' apart Little kids coverin' their ears While teenagers screamed in the dark One boy drank transmission fluid For twenty dollars and a dare Threw up in a bonfire circle Then wheelied through a folding chair [Instrumental Break] [Instrument: acrobatic slap-bass frenzy, distorted bass tapping runs, engine-like guitar squeals, collapsing tom chaos] [Structure: Rhythmic Bridge] Midnight... Fog rollin' over the trails... Helmet visors glowin' Like bugs around the floodlights... Then somebody yelled— "WHO'S READY FOR COMMUNION?!" [Structure: Anthemic Peak] DIRTBIKE COMMUNION! DIRTBIKE COMMUNION! Engines screamin'... Mud flyin' heavenward... DIRTBIKE COMMUNION! Everybody twitchin'... Everybody airborne... Whole damn woods shakin' tonight! [Beat: oppressive bass-drive groove, violent stop-start syncopation, explosive drum gallops] [Structure: Minimalist Breakdown] Generator sputterin'... Crickets chirpin'... Cooling engines tickin' in the dark... Teenagers kneelin' beside dirtbikes Like rusted mechanical horses Hands black with grease Faces glowing orange from the fire Nobody wanted to go home... Nobody wanted daylight... [Structure: Focused Performance] Sheriff drove by around one-thirty Saw sparks flyin' through the trees Just kept drivin' Like he'd learned not to ask questions anymore Meanwhile Caleb stood on a picnic table Holdin' a busted piston overhead Screamin'— "THIS HERE'S WHAT FREEDOM LOOKS LIKE!" [Structure: Anthemic Peak] DIRTBIKE COMMUNION! DIRTBIKE COMMUNION! Bassline growlin'... Back tires spinnin'... DIRTBIKE COMMUNION! Everybody shoutin'... Everybody reckless... Whole damn county awake! [Outro] [Instrument: collapsing slap-bass chaos, revving-engine guitar abuse, galloping tom destruction, ugly room-feedback decay] BRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAP— BRRRRRAAAAAAAAAAAP—
