Title: Copper Bearings BPM: 110 BPM (Verse 1 - Aggressive acoustic guitar strumming with heavy string slaps, fast-paced rap flow) Woke up with the dust in my throat from the road Shaking off the weight of an archaic code I got a beat-up six-string, a notebook of rhymes And a memory bank full of chaotic times We’re living in a world built on digital feeds But I’m turning my back on their artificial needs Give me direct connection, give me boots on the street Give me raw conversation with the people I meet I see the skyscrapers blocking out the noon sun But down in the gutters, yeah, the rebels still run We don't need a fortune, don't need a blueprint layout We just need a minute to let the engine play out So lace up the sneakers, throw the pack on the shoulder Every single day we're getting faster and older Syllables are slicing through the air like a blade Defying every boundary that the system has made! (Chorus - Full-on melodic folk punk strumming, group-yelled backing vocals) ’CAUSE WE’RE LIVING THIS LIFE ON THE EDGE OF THE TRACK! WE’RE KICKING THE DUST AND WE’RE NEVER LOOKING BACK! WITH A POCKET FULL OF SPARKS AND A HEART RUNNING FREE! EXACTLY THE REBELS WE WERE MEANT TO BE! WHOA-OH, WHOA-OH! LET THE HOLLOW HOUSES BURN! IT’S OUR TIME TO WATCH THE RECKONING TURN! (Verse 2 - Fast acoustic fingerpicking, accelerated technical chopper flow) Look at the trajectory, we’re changing up the pace Running wild through the alleys, leaving footprints in the place No corporate manipulation can contain the motivation Of a technical deployment generating liberation I see the cynics in the corner trying to calculate the worth Of a human spirit stepping on the unpaved earth We chop the vegetables up, put 'em in a iron pot Sharing everything we have, proud of what we got She drops down the longboard, hooks it to the wheel Showing all the doubters how the momentum feels Flying down the blacktop under purple-tinted skies With the absolute fire burning bright behind our eyes We don't need their permission to survive the collision We operate the rhythm with a clinical precision One hundred and ten beats of a beautiful flight Conquering the shadows as we skate into the night! (Chorus - Full-on melodic folk punk strumming, group-yelled backing vocals) ’CAUSE WE’RE LIVING THIS LIFE ON THE EDGE OF THE TRACK! WE’RE KICKING THE DUST AND WE’RE NEVER LOOKING BACK! WITH A POCKET FULL OF SPARKS AND A HEART RUNNING FREE! EXACTLY THE REBELS WE WERE MEANT TO BE! WHOA-OH, WHOA-OH! LET THE HOLLOW HOUSES BURN! IT’S OUR TIME TO WATCH THE RECKONING TURN! (Bridge - Strumming drops to a single, heavy acoustic chord chug, raw yelled delivery) They tried to write us off... They thought we’d daze and fade. But look at the family... That the outcasts made! [Yelled] No surrender! No default! [Scream] BRING THE ENTIRE MACHINE TO A HALT! ONE! TWO! THREE! GO! (Guitar Solo - Fast, chaotic acoustic picking, strings buzzing, highly energetic) (Chorus - Maximum intensity, throat-tearing folk punk delivery with crowd harmonies) ’CAUSE WE’RE LIVING THIS LIFE ON THE EDGE OF THE TRACK! WE’RE KICKING THE DUST AND WE’RE NEVER LOOKING BACK! WITH A POCKET FULL OF SPARKS AND A HEART RUNNING FREE! EXACTLY THE REBELS WE WERE MEANT TO BE! WHOA-OH, WHOA-OH! LET THE HOLLOW HOUSES BURN! IT’S OUR TIME TO WATCH THE RECKONING TURN! (Outro - Sharp stop on the drums, lone acoustic guitar trailing off with a simple melody, spoken word delivery) Yeah pure reality. Just the pavement, the music, and the people who have your back. Nothing else matters. Power down. (Final hard slap on the guitar body to kill the sound)
