Exit Interview

Lovable Villain

Frank Castle

Lovable Villain

jazzstep, dubstep, dark jazz

+ Show full styles

(Intro: A walking bassline starts, punctuated by sharp, muted trumpet stings. Frank Castle leans in, voice like velvet soaked in bourbon.)

(Verse 1)
He sat in the corner, reading the tea leaves
Whispering secrets in his quarter-zip fleece
Said, “Kid, you’re a giant, you’re destined for more”
Then he marched me through every single closing door
He climbed on my back just to reach for the light
But the moment a shadow fell over the night
One little slip-up, a crack in the glass
And I've fallen from the heights down onto my ass
From the verge of the throne to the back of the line
While he kept the credit and left me the fine.

(Chorus)
Oh, it’s the corporate shuffle, the management swing
Where the praise is a feather and the fall has a sting
You build them a castle and they steal from your plate
Let them choose your leader you'll get a boot in your face. 
Yeah, the view from the top is a beautiful lie
You want to work in the jungle but the price is too high.

(Verse 2)
Then came the Duchess, cold as the steel
Ignoring the numbers, ignoring what's real
A quarter billion? She called it a fraud
Delusions of grandeur, thinks she's a P.M. God.
“I’m here to help you,” she said with a sneer
The kind of assistance that ends a career
She scattered my soldiers, broke spirits and legs
Cracked open our momentum like a couple of eggs
When the dust finally settled and the halls were all bare
She stomped on the spirits of the ones still there.

(Verse 3)
Then I got a call from the dreamer with goggles of gold
Selling a future that  he called bold
A tech-heavy vision with nowhere to go
A high-priced production for an empty show
He boasted to VPs while we bled in the rain
With zero direction and double the pain
He played all his favorites, a deck full of kings
While throwing the truth-tellers out in the wings
And when the VP vampires came calling for blood,
He served me up cold with a sickening thud.

(Bridge: The tempo picks up, the piano gets frantic and dissonant before resolving back into a smooth, confident stroll.)

I walked through the ruins, I started anew
I found me an office with a different view
My own hand on the rudder, my feet on the floor
Time to rebuild the castle and settle the score.

(Outro)

(The big band drops out entirely. Just a slow, walking upright bass and the light tap of a ride cymbal.)

(Spoken) Would. You. Believe it?

(Singing)

So the phone rings loud on a Tuesday at noon,
The tea-leaf reader singing a desperate tune.
"Come back to the fold, kid, I'm dealing new cards."
While I'm looking out over my own front yard.

(The piano sneaks back in with a smooth, bluesy trill)

I didn't yell, I didn't curse, I didn't even sigh,
Just smiled at the receiver and whispered goodbye.
You can keep your petty empires and your muddy tea leaves,
I’m done building castles for a boardroom of thieves.

(The music pauses. Dead silence for two beats.)

(Frank speaks, low, close to the mic, dripping with cool)
"Sorry, pal. The Castle is under new management."

(A single, sharp brass hit)
"And we don't serve your kind of tea."

(The full band crashes back in for one massive, triumphant, roaring final chord. Let it ring out, then fade to the sound of a cocktail glass clinking on a mahogany bar.)

3923/7500

(Intro: A walking bassline starts, punctuated by sharp, muted trumpet stings. Frank Castle leans in, voice like velvet soaked in bourbon.) (Verse 1) He sat in the corner, reading the tea leaves Whispering secrets in his quarter-zip fleece Said, “Kid, you’re a giant, you’re destined for more” Then he marched me through every single closing door He climbed on my back just to reach for the light But the moment a shadow fell over the night One little slip-up, a crack in the glass And I've fallen from the heights down onto my ass From the verge of the throne to the back of the line While he kept the credit and left me the fine. (Chorus) Oh, it’s the corporate shuffle, the management swing Where the praise is a feather and the fall has a sting You build them a castle and they steal from your plate Let them choose your leader you'll get a boot in your face. Yeah, the view from the top is a beautiful lie You want to work in the jungle but the price is too high. (Verse 2) Then came the Duchess, cold as the steel Ignoring the numbers, ignoring what's real A quarter billion? She called it a fraud Delusions of grandeur, thinks she's a P.M. God. “I’m here to help you,” she said with a sneer The kind of assistance that ends a career She scattered my soldiers, broke spirits and legs Cracked open our momentum like a couple of eggs When the dust finally settled and the halls were all bare She stomped on the spirits of the ones still there. (Chorus) Oh, it’s the corporate shuffle, the management swing Where the praise is a feather and the fall has a sting You build them a castle and they steal from your plate Let them choose your leader you'll get a boot in your face. Yeah, the view from the top is a beautiful lie You want to work in the jungle but the price is too high. (Verse 3) Then I got a call from the dreamer with goggles of gold Selling a future that he called bold A tech-heavy vision with nowhere to go A high-priced production for an empty show He boasted to VPs while we bled in the rain With zero direction and double the pain He played all his favorites, a deck full of kings While throwing the truth-tellers out in the wings And when the VP vampires came calling for blood, He served me up cold with a sickening thud. (Chorus) Oh, it’s the corporate shuffle, the management swing Where the praise is a feather and the fall has a sting You build them a castle and they steal from your plate Let them choose your leader you'll get a boot in your face. Yeah, the view from the top is a beautiful lie You want to work in the jungle but the price is too high. (Bridge: The tempo picks up, the piano gets frantic and dissonant before resolving back into a smooth, confident stroll.) I walked through the ruins, I started anew I found me an office with a different view My own hand on the rudder, my feet on the floor Time to rebuild the castle and settle the score. (Outro) (The big band drops out entirely. Just a slow, walking upright bass and the light tap of a ride cymbal.) (Spoken) Would. You. Believe it? (Singing) So the phone rings loud on a Tuesday at noon, The tea-leaf reader singing a desperate tune. "Come back to the fold, kid, I'm dealing new cards." While I'm looking out over my own front yard. (The piano sneaks back in with a smooth, bluesy trill) I didn't yell, I didn't curse, I didn't even sigh, Just smiled at the receiver and whispered goodbye. You can keep your petty empires and your muddy tea leaves, I’m done building castles for a boardroom of thieves. (The music pauses. Dead silence for two beats.) (Frank speaks, low, close to the mic, dripping with cool) "Sorry, pal. The Castle is under new management." (A single, sharp brass hit) "And we don't serve your kind of tea." (The full band crashes back in for one massive, triumphant, roaring final chord. Let it ring out, then fade to the sound of a cocktail glass clinking on a mahogany bar.)

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