Intro (Spoken) Welcome to the only game where you win for twenty minutes and still finish last. Verse 1 I say “HU!” – they’re like: “Yeah, but how many points then?” I’m like: “Uh… I won, that’s the whole point, man?” Someone tries to help with the calculation, Others say: “Bro, that’s passing information.” The judge arrives, pulls out a calculator, Says: “Yeah sorry, that doesn’t count, my dude, later.” No Riichi, no Dora, no bonus luck, Just raw efficiency and suffering, non-stop. I got a hand, I feel like a god, Rules say: “8 points? Bro, that’s trash, not hot.” Pre-Chorus In MCR you don’t win with style, You win with Excel and a lifetime of trials. Chorus MCR, nobody knows how it works, But everyone acts like they’re total experts. You make Mahjong, get 8 points, that’s it, The other guy gets 60 for some weird-looking shit. Verse 2 All Simples, Mixed Triple, Pure Straight too, Sounds like yoga poses from kung-fu. I say “Pong”, I feel real smart, Together I got seven – yeah, that’s the hard part. I need eight points just to survive, So I pray for self-drawn to save my life. My neighbor shouts: “HU!” – I think - Thats my end, Out loud I just say: “Yeah… nice hand.” Bridge (Spoken, dry) In Mahjong there are rarely any ties. Every round one is happy, and three want to cry. Chorus Mahjong is a game with heart and pain, You lose with style and you win with shame. No drama, no luck, no hype, Just people arguing if it counts or not, all night. Final Verse Two hours in, my brain is dead, I won, but only “a little bit ahead”. At the end someone asks: “So… was that good?” Everyone nods, nobody knows why, dude. Outro Mahjong is not a game. It’s a mathematical experiment with human sacrifices.
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