Strings Into the Void [Intro | Shepard tone effect | endlessly ascending layered octave arpeggio | continuous rising pitch illusion | funky slap bass slowly enters | intricate technical drums | alien atmosphere | robotic backup singers fade in] Green Green Green [Spoken] Is that river supposed to be bubbling? [Robot Voice] Yes. [Verse 1 | angular art-rock funk | rubbery slap bass] Chrome feet standing in the acid Purple flowers eyeballing me Three moons hanging over nowhere Something’s pulling on my strings NO NO NO NO NO Black towers lean toward the music Green bubbles rise beneath my feet I slap the lowest string one time The planet skips a beat [Chorus | explosive robotic choir | octave risers intensify] SLAP THE BASS! SHAKE THE GROUND! MAKE THE GREEN BUBBLOIDS JUMP AROUND! PULL THE STRINGS! BEND THE SKY! KEEP ON COOKING! DON’T ASK WHY! [Instrumental Mutation | aggressive slap-bass solo | odd-meter drums | continuous rising pitch illusion | overlapping octave risers | alien synths | escalating tension] [Spoken] What’s pulling the strings? [Robot Voice] Do not look up. [DING] [Verse 2 | mechanical funk | perpetual upward motion] Every note disturbs a moon Every slap produces steam Something underneath the river Has developed self-esteem Purple weeds begin applauding Mountains wobble out of time Chrome Puppet hits another note The black hole starts to climb [Robot Voice] Correction. You are climbing. [Sudden Silence] Oh. [Breakdown | bass only | marionette strings tightening | ascending octave layers slowly return] Pull. Pull. Pull. PULL. [Final Chorus | maximum intensity | robotic choir | frantic slap bass | perpetual ascent | no harmonic resolution] PLAY THE BASS! LEAVE THE GROUND! LET THE WHOLE DAMN WORLD SPIN ROUND! STRINGS GO UP! FEET GO HIGH! STILL I’M PLAYING THROUGH THE SKY! [Instrumental | bass continues as performer is pulled upward | Shepard tone intensifies endlessly] [Spoken] Can somebody put me back down? [Robot Voice] No. [Spoken] Why? [Robot Voice] Bass solo. [DING] [Outro | bass grows increasingly distant | overlapping octave risers continue upward forever | no final cadence] Still playing. Still playing. Still playing. [Whisper] There is no bottom.
