[Intro - a sequenced bass figure pulses under a slowly opening analog filter, Rhodes chords and mellotron strings drifting in with vocoder textures, then a Moog bass line locks with a measured syncopated pulse and talking drum, spring reverb and tape delay blooming around it] [Verse 1 - the pulse stays hypnotic and measured, Moog bass and sequenced bass locked together, Rhodes comping underneath, a fingerpicked acoustic guitar threading through] The book says nothing happens there You land and wait your turn No money in the middle No lesson you should learn But every kitchen table Wrote its own rule in the dark Put the fines under the teapot And gave it to whoever parked [Chorus - the band opens wide, analog synth filters sweeping open, mellotron strings swelling under a snarling electric guitar hook, talking drum and the syncopated pulse driving, vocoder shimmering behind] Free parking Was never in the box Somebody wrote it in When the game got too rough Nobody printed mercy There's no card that says be kind So we wrote it in ourselves And we play it every time [Verse 2 - back to the hypnotic verse pulse, acoustic guitar and Rhodes weaving over the Moog bass, tape delay trailing off each phrase] Little brother gets a do-over If he cries about the roll It doesn't count if it hits the floor Grandma lets it slide when you're low Nobody ever voted Nobody signed a thing And the rules the makers wrote Are still folded in the lid [Chorus - fuller, mellotron strings and electric guitar stacked, filters opening wider, talking drum and sequenced bass pushing harder] Free parking Was never in the box Somebody wrote it in When the game got too rough Nobody printed mercy There's no card that says be kind So we wrote it in ourselves And we play it every time [Bridge - drops back to the sequenced bass and a lone Rhodes under a held analog pad, the filter slowly closing then reopening as the talking drum and Moog bass gather underneath] And the printed game is cruel If you play it like it's written Everybody ends up broke And one person ends up sitting On a pile nobody wants In a room that's gone to bed So we cheat a little kinder And we play it our way instead [Instrumental Solo - a searing analog synth lead climbs through sweeping filters, hands off to a snarling electric guitar solo over the locked Moog and sequenced bass, then a dazzling Rhodes run and talking drum break into a wild vocoder-drenched climax, the whole band pushing higher together] [Final Chorus - the biggest lift, every filter wide open, mellotron strings and electric guitar blazing, talking drum and syncopated pulse driving under the hook] Free parking Was never in the box Somebody wrote it in When the game got too rough Nobody printed mercy There's no card that says be kind So we wrote it in ourselves And we play it every time [Outro - the band falls away to the sequenced bass alone, the analog filter slowly closing, vocoder and Rhodes fading into spring reverb and tape delay]
