[INTRO – IMMEDIATE DISTORTED 808 BASS SLIDE, HARD DRY PHONK KICK, EERIE COWBELL RIFF. DARK HYPNOTIC GROOVE.] [DEEP MALE – LAZY AUSTRALIAN DRAWL] Congratulations! You've been discovered! You're gonna be a star! [PAUSE] Just sign this little contract. [MALE – SUSPICIOUS] What's this bit about my soul? [RECORD EXECUTIVE – SMOOTH, SLEAZY MALE VOICE] Standard industry practice. [HEAVY BASS DROP] [VERSE 1 – DEEP RHYTHMIC MALE VOCAL] I walked into a record label, With a song and a guitar, A gentleman in sunglasses Said, "We're gonna make you a star!" He had a golden fountain pen, A contract ten feet long, Said, "We'll give you fame and fortune, But we'll tell you what to sing!" I said, "What about my freedom?" He said, "That's clause twenty-three." I said, "And what about my soul?" He said, "That belongs to me!" [PRE-CHORUS – BASS BUILDS, DRUMS CUT] He said, "Welcome to the business! We've got everything you need!" [MALE – SPOKEN] Except artistic freedom... [EXECUTIVE] That's an additional fee. [CHORUS – HEAVY ROCK GUITARS ENTER, MASSIVE PHONK BASS, MALE GANG CHANTS] SIGN HERE, SATAN! SELL YOUR SOUL! WE'LL MAKE YOU FAMOUS! WE'LL TAKE CONTROL! GOT YOUR MUSIC! GOT YOUR NAME! GOT YOUR FACE AND YOUR SHARE OF THE FAME! SIGN HERE, SATAN! WELCOME TO THE SHOW! WE OWN EVERYTHING YOU DO! NOW GET OUT THERE AND GO! [INSTRUMENTAL – DISTORTED 808 SLIDES, HEAVY PALM-MUTED ROCK GUITAR, MEMPHIS COWBELL, INDUSTRIAL TECHNO PERCUSSION.] [VERSE 2 – SARCASTIC MALE VOCAL] They said, "Cover up one eyeball, Make a triangle with your hands, Put a pyramid behind you, That's what everybody understands!" I said, "What's with all the symbols? Have you joined a secret club?" He said, "Don't ask silly questions, Just go dance inside the tub!" They dressed me up in leather, Put some horns upon my head, Said, "It's all about the image!" I said, "What about the songs instead?" [MALE SPOKEN] Apparently... The devil's got a marketing department. [EXECUTIVE] And excellent distribution. [HEAVY BASS DROP] [VERSE 3 – DARKER GROOVE, DISTORTED GUITAR STABS] They've got the lawyers, They've got the gold, They've got the masters And the stories being told. They've got the contracts, They've got the charts, They've got a price tag Hanging off your heart. They'll sell your rebellion, They'll package your rage, Then charge you admission To stand on your own stage! [MALE SPOKEN] I wrote the bloody song! [EXECUTIVE] Wonderful! We own it. [CHORUS – EXPLOSIVE PHONK-ROCK GROOVE] SIGN HERE, SATAN! SELL YOUR SOUL! WE'LL MAKE YOU FAMOUS! WE'LL TAKE CONTROL! GOT YOUR MUSIC! GOT YOUR NAME! GOT YOUR FACE AND YOUR SHARE OF THE FAME! SIGN HERE, SATAN! WELCOME TO THE SHOW! WE OWN EVERYTHING YOU DO! NOW GET OUT THERE AND GO! [EXTENDED INSTRUMENTAL – HYPNOTIC 808 BASS LOOP, INDUSTRIAL TECHNO KICK, DISTORTED GUITAR RIFFS, COWBELL MELODY. SUDDEN RHYTHMIC CUTS.] [VERSE 4 – CHEEKY, CONVERSATIONAL DELIVERY] Then along came little Suno, Making music on demand, Suddenly the bedroom singers Had a whole damn backing band! No expensive recording studio, No executive in a chair, No one saying, "Change the chorus! And for God's sake, cut your hair!" Then the lawyers started circling, With their briefcases and ties, Saying, "Copyright infringement!" With dollar signs in their eyes. [MALE SPOKEN] Sony's taking Suno to court? [EXECUTIVE] Intellectual property, my boy! [MALE] Fair enough, protect your music... But who gets to own the joy? [BREAKDOWN – MUSIC STOPS. LOW DISTORTED BASS PULSE.] [VERSE 5 – DRY, MOCKING DELIVERY] Now the fictional record devil Has a rather nasty fear, That a million little artists Might no longer need him here. No more begging for permission, No more waiting at his door, No more selling him your soul For a tiny piece of more! [EXECUTIVE – PANICKING] But who will control the music? [MALE] Well, here's a crazy thought... Maybe let the people make it! [PAUSE] [EXECUTIVE] You'll be hearing from our lawyers. [MALE] Yeah, I bloody thought! [EXPLOSIVE BASS DROP] [FINAL CHORUS – FULL POWER, HEAVY ROCK DRUMS, PHONK BASS, MALE GANG VOCALS] SIGN HERE, SATAN! SELL YOUR SOUL! WE'LL MAKE YOU FAMOUS! WE'LL TAKE CONTROL! GOT YOUR MUSIC! GOT YOUR NAME! GOT YOUR FACE AND YOUR SHARE OF THE FAME! SIGN HERE, SATAN! NOT TODAY! I'LL KEEP MY SOUL AND GIVE MY SONGS AWAY! [EXTENDED OUTRO – RELENTLESS HYPNOTIC PHONK BASS, DISTORTED ROCK GUITAR, DRIVING TECHNO PERCUSSION. GROOVE BUILDS THEN CUTS.] [EXECUTIVE – SLEAZY MALE VOICE] One final question... Who owns the rights to your immortal soul? [MALE – DEADPAN] Me. [EXECUTIVE] Have you registered the trademark? [LONG PAUSE] [MALE] Oh, for fuck's sake! [FINAL DISTORTED BASS HIT] [END]
