Interdimensional Bazaar

[Verse 1] Lanterns hum in ultraviolet, colors bend and then rewind Every price tag blinks in languages that warp inside my mind Hallways curl like Möbius strips, stalls rearrange their place Vendors smile a second late with almost-recognizable face [Pre-Chorus] Footsteps echo half a beat behind the ones I think are mine Spices hang in coils of air that twist around the exit sign I reach to touch a polished door that flickers into glass Hear a joke I swear I know, but all the punchlines glitch and pass [Chorus] Welcome to the interdimensional bazaar Where everything is almost what you think you are Every sound is slightly wrong, like a song played in reverse Liminal and lingering, a beautiful, unsettling curse [Verse 2] Coins fall up, then stall midair, then sink into the floor A violin plays backward from a room that has no door Neon signs in swirling script mispronounce the word "escape" A mannequin grows breathing lungs beneath its porcelain shape [Pre-Chorus] Perfume bottles sing in static, glass vibrating with a tone Every corridor I follow turns me back where I have grown Voices fray like radio between two distant, rainy towns Conversation made of echoes, stitched with broken modem sounds [Chorus] Welcome to the interdimensional bazaar Where every bargain is a loop inside your mind Every sound is slightly wrong, like a hymn played out of phase Liminal and lingering, a crooked, ever-shifting maze [Bridge] I hear a market chant, but all the vowels slide away The drummer hits on beats that never learned the rules of day A clarinet unspools its notes in spirals made of dust The melody remembers us, but almost doesn’t trust [Chorus] Welcome to the interdimensional bazaar Where every rhythm limps but somehow still ignites Every sound is slightly wrong, like a record torn in two Liminal and lingering, the space between the false and true [Outro] A final stall that shouldn’t fit folds open in my chest I buy a clock with missing hands that only points to "almost" rest As I leave, the air rewinds, the ground forgets my tread And the music of the market plays a future in my head