--- [verse 1] [sung clearly over a steady, melancholic beat] they decorate everything with lights that flash, pull you in, and fade, a rush of plastic and glitter, gone by the 26th, their promise unmade. i'm looking for a light that lasts. a light you can almost taste. that radiates warmth when the party's over and nothing remains but a quiet space. i don't find it on the ferris wheel, not in the coaster's roar. but in waiting for something made for me by a hand, and nothing more. [chorus] [melodic, anthemic, guitars and electronic elements rise. the line "for the real, for heaven's sake" must have a soaring, memorable, defining melody] for lights that remain are lights you claim. that you make. they don't burn out blind, they taste of truth, for the real, for heaven's sake! a vienna corndog is such a spark, hand-drawn, sincere. no straw fire of haste, but a quiet, golden truth, right here. in this season of short days and the longest nights, every bite into slowness is a quiet resistance. [verse 2] [voice becomes more observational, beat remains driving] we've forgotten how to watch things grow. everything must be finished before we even know, what we actually wanted. here, in the fragrant line, you learn it anew: beauty doesn't come to those who just pass by. it gets drawn, dipped, transformed in bubbling oil. a slow enchantment that tells your soul its own story back. [chorus] [fuller arrangement, layered vocals - same melody and lyrics, highlight the key melodic phrase] for lights that remain are lights you claim. that you make. they don't burn out blind, they taste of truth, for the real, for heaven's sake! a vienna corndog is such a spark, hand-drawn, sincere. no straw fire of haste, but a quiet, golden truth, right here. in this season of short days and the longest nights, every bite into slowness is a quiet resistance. [bridge] [beat becomes more rhythmic, almost danceable but introverted] between candyfloss clouds and ghost train screams, you are the architect of your own quiet dreams. you choose the sauce, you choose the moment. it's your ritual. an act of self-care in the winter carnival. fast food is not good. good food… is a statement. a small, firm no. [final chorus] [more powerful, full band and electronic elements swell, ad-libs] for lights that remain are lights you claim! that you make! they don't burn out blind, they taste of truth, FOR THE REAL, FOR HEAVEN'S SAKE! a vienna corndog is such a spark, hand-drawn, sincere! no straw fire of haste, but a quiet, golden truth, right here! in this season… every bite into slowness… is a quiet resistance. [outro] [instruments fade, leaving atmospheric pad and glockenspiel] …a claim of your rights. happy holidays. from our stand to you.
