Scott Pilgrim 🎸( Cobblestone Cut )

By the power of truth, I, while living, have conquered the universe © 2026 Mark Damon Bitkower. Lyrics & written content are original and owned by the author. All rights reserved. No reproduction, redistribution, or use without prior written permission. 🐰🌙𝕵𝖆𝖈𝖐𝕽𝖆𝖇𝖇𝖎𝖙 𝕾𝖑𝖎𝖒𝖘🌙🐰 (A Sacred Circus for Everyone Who Ever Felt Too Much) [Verse 1] I used to write in rooms with the lights turned low, Final Draft ghosts, espresso halos, Typing other people’s dreams for a living wage, Punchlines rented, soul in a cage. They said, “Structure, baby, save the fun for later,” Three acts, clean arcs, don’t scare the operator. But my brain was a pinball, my heart a drum, Every thought shouting, everyone come! So I quit the quiet, I quit the neat, Burned the rulebook under my bare feet, Found my voice in distortion and play, Turns out truth just wanted to scream and say— [Pre-Chorus] What if no one opens and no one’s late? What if art’s not ranked by a velvet rope gate? What if healing sounds like laughter and bass And the whole damn crowd’s part of the band on stage? [Chorus] Welcome to the Scott Pilgrim state of mind, Neon hearts and the freaks align, Pop meets metal, jokes hit God, Sacred noise in a holy mosh. No headliners, no opening act, Just humans remembering how to feel back, Drop your phone, pick up the sound, This is Vegas of the soul now— 🎶 Scott Pilgrim, gather round! 🎶 [Verse 2] This ain’t a concert, it’s a communion rite, Cirque du Soleil with a sense of fight, Every lyric a mirror, every riff a hand, Saying “You’re not broken—you’re just unplanned.” I see the shy kids, the burned-out kings, The moms, the punks, the ghosts with wings, Everyone carrying a quiet scar, Everyone louder than they think they are. I write like a kid with a Sharpie grin, Low latent lightning under my skin, INFJ with a prankster soul, Heyoka laughing while I crack the mold. I don’t preach, I play, I invite, Therapy wrapped in a hell of a night. [Pre-Chorus] What if depth could dance and wisdom scream? What if pop could still mean something? What if fun was the missing cure And joy was actually hardcore? [Chorus] Welcome to the Scott Pilgrim state of mind, Cartoon chaos, cosmic time, Heavy truths in a sugar rush, Laugh-cry-sing till the walls blush. No gatekeepers, no sacred few, If you’re breathing, this song is you, Eyes up, hearts loud, lost-and-found, This is Vegas of the soul now— 🎶 Scott Pilgrim, gather round! 🎶 [Bridge] This is quality time with rhyme and sound, Learning who you are while you jump around, Archetypes moshing, shadows forgiven, Inner children crowdsurfing into the living. Not a brand, not a flex, not an algorithm win, Just people remembering how music began— As a fire, as a circle, as a spell, As a story we tell so we don’t feel alone in hell. [Final Chorus / Outro] So turn it up like you mean to heal, Turn it up till the joy feels real, If you stopped writing, if you lost your voice, This is your permission slip: make noise. No openers, no gods above, Just art, laughter, sweat, and love, Hands up, weirdos, make it profound— 🎶 Scott Pilgrim… welcome to the sound. 🎶