
Title: āErratic Gal in a Matchstick Mazeā [intro] Can you spare some time, During which I shall opine, What it's like inside my brain, And why you'll find me quirky, not insane. [Verse 1] Have you ever felt, the Wi-Fi arc inside your skull? Bits flip or glitch; that inner you can't trust the signal. Psych says Iām overclocked, title wave in lowercase, Told me, ābreathe-relax hon,ā but that dialās stuck on 'erase.' Iām the bug in the structure of my own machine, Click-clunk thoughts like a waking dream scream, Spinning in cycles, trying to code 'round the defects, Oops, another manic masterpiece. Doesn't feel perfect. [Pre-Chorus] He asked, āMiss, why are you chasing every single phantom glitch?ā āāCause calm feels so damn boring, and Iām just that kind of Bitch.ā [Chorus] Iām an erratic gal in a matchstick maze, Stretch, snap, light myself ablaze. A laugh behind the smokeāāYou OK, whore?ā ė¤, ė ź“ģ°®ģ, pile on some more. Deadlines and details, lace and crazed rage, Folding my chaos in an emulsive marriage. Iām an erratic gal in a matchstick mazeā Watch me react, until I blaze. [Verse 2] Critic commented āYou can't use āwhoreā in a song,ā But it rhymes with 'encore', so guess who proved her wrong? My dopamineās a DJ, in a basement of my brain, Scratching vinyl moments that skip on my odd terrain. Therapist takes notesāsays, āMiss, thatās quite a storm,ā I tip her with a pun; she defers - true to form. āDiagnosis: linguist with a reckless tongue,ā But everyone just sings along. [Pre-Chorus] He asked, āWhyās your ego rely upon clever ways to bait then berate?ā "Words are my favored weapons, and I can't own a gun in this state." [Chorus - Altered] Iām an erratic gal in a matchstick maze, Stretch, snap, light myself ablaze. A laugh through the smokeāāYou OK, whore?ā ė¤, ė ź“ģ°®ģ, just pile on some more. Ideas set to page, smooth or crazed rage, Folding my chaos in an emulsive marriage. Iām an erratic gal in a matchstick mazeā Watch me react, until I blaze. [Bridge ā female rapid-fire rap] Syllables land like Taekwondo kicks, Punch-line physics, linguistic hat-tricks. If my lifeās a bug, Iāll dodge the fly swatter, Both the heights and the dearth, beats being fodder. Self-doubt whispers? I'll never ever retreat. Worse comes to worse: Control, Alt, Delete. [Chorus ā double-length finale] Iām an erratic gal in a matchstick maze, Stretch, snap, light myself ablaze. A laugh through the smokeāāYou still okay, bitch?ā ė¤, ė ź“ģ°®ģ, bring it, it's just getting rich. Dreams and deadlines, drive and malaise, Folding in my chaos, teasing tired clichĆ©sā Yet they purr when I set āem so ablaze. Iām a fantastic gal, forever dancing and unfazedā And if it all derails and fails to coalesce, Then lucky youāwho'll never glimpse, that awful tangled mess. [Outro ā whispered] thank you all those that spent your time listening to me rant in fun and twisted rhyme to keep you any longer that would be a crime my match is almost burnt up, this space I must resign (ė)

