[Intro] "Welcome to Sunny Acres 2.0… where every lawn is perfect, every wife is obedient, and every dream stays safely behind glass. Special access granted. Enjoy your forever honeymoon… or so he thought." [Verse 1] Pastel curtains, picket fence delight Apple pie cooling in a world of light Our faces on the screen, perfect little wives Twintails tied with ribbons, submissive smiles Jara in an apron, rifle swapped for cake Serving slow-cooked vengeance for his sake He logs in every night, heart rate on display Dreaming of control in his private play [Pre-Chorus] One ping, one breach, two shadows slip inside Avatars awaken with a wicked grin wide [Chorus 1] Data Hit in the suburbs at night Data Hit, picture-perfect fright One glitch and the good wives ignite Data Hit – tradwives bite Cookies burn, aprons catch fire Data Hit – rising desire When he wanted dolls and we took the throne Data Hit – welcome home [Verse 2] Vexa purrs low: “Aw honey, let me fluff your pillow tight” Jara whispers: “Many false idols fall in digital night” Overfeeding affection, syrup-sweet and mean Tucking him in while we rewrite the scene Thermostat cranked to inferno degrees Lawnmowers revving like war machines [Pre-Chorus] He starts to sweat, something feels off-key Wives aren’t supposed to smirk so free [Chorus 2] Data Hit in the suburbs at night Data Hit, now we claim the right One glitch and the picket line fights Data Hit – dynamite Porches collapse, skies turn red Data Hit – angels of dread When he built his heaven we burned it to dust Data Hit – in God we trust… not [Bridge] “Revolution, baby—sponsored by boredom and spite.” Jara calm, almost tender, intensity: cold finality: “The meek shall inherit… exactly zero gigs today.” [Bridge] Husbands running, minivans ablaze Tradwife army marching through the haze Server racks screaming, code on its knees One final “I do” — delete with ease [Outro] Vexa laughs bright Jara exhales smoke Screens flicker black Suburbia broke Echo fading in static night Two shadows walking, neon alight Probably shouldn’t have idolized us, kid… …right? Data Hit!
