I came in at a quarter after midnight, just to put another room between your name and mine. Paid the girl beneath the violet EXIT sign, she stamped my wrist and said, “You’re right on time.” There’s a boy beside the speakers losing blood from his nose, still dancing like the rhythm hasn’t noticed. The dancers near the staircase freeze between the beats, mouths still moving while their bodies wait to catch up. Then the bass comes back and everybody jumps ahead, like somebody cut a second out and stitched the room back up. [Pre-Chorus] Lights out. Lights on. Everybody missed a second. Bass drops. Teeth lock. Nobody seems to question it. I saw your coat beside the stairs. I know you’re not supposed to be there. [Chorus] The club is malfunctioning! The floor keeps skipping underneath my feet. Everybody’s dancing like they’re buffering, eight little movements endlessly. The exit sign keeps pointing inward. The DJ left an hour ago. The club itself is malfunctioning. And I don’t think I want to go. [Verse 2] At one-thirty-five the ceiling started breathing. At one-thirty-six, nobody seemed surprised. A guy beside the sinks is moving half a beat behind, like his body lost the signal but his shadow stayed in time. I followed your red jacket through the hallway. Turned the corner, found the dance floor there instead. Checked my phone. One message. Sent from you: DON’T COME INSIDE. Timestamp: eleven minutes after I arrived. [Pre-Chorus] Lights out. Lights on. Someone lost another minute. Hands up. Heads down. Something underneath the rhythm. I saw your face between the strobes. You smiled like you already know. [Chorus] The club is malfunctioning! The floor keeps skipping underneath my feet. Everybody’s dancing like they’re buffering, eight little movements endlessly. The exit sign keeps pointing inward. The DJ left an hour ago. The club itself is malfunctioning. And I don’t think I want to go. [Bridge] Someone pulled the fire alarm. The beat got louder. Someone broke the emergency door. It opened onto the dance floor. And now the room is counting backward: Ten. Nine. Eight. You take my hand. Seven. Six. You say, “Don’t make me disappear again.” Five. Four. The lights go red. Three. Two. I close my eyes. Lights out. Nothing. Then the bass comes back. [Final Chorus] The club is malfunctioning! The floor keeps skipping underneath my feet. Everybody’s dancing like they’re suffering, eight little movements endlessly. The exit sign keeps pointing inward. The DJ left an hour ago. The club itself is malfunctioning. And I don’t think I want to go. [Outro] Then the bass comes back. Then the bass comes back. Then the bass comes back.
