[Intro] [Slow mechanical industrial beat, dark atmospheric synths] [Low, distorted breathing] [Verse 1] The Normals are easy, their thoughts are a fog A predictable rhythm, a dull mental bog They taste like wet cardboard, they taste like the rain A slow-moving snack with a comfortable brain Just a simple equation of grab and of bite No flavor, no friction, just blending the night [Chorus] [Tempo shifts up, abrasive glitch synths explode] But don't bite the Spicy ones! Look at the glow! Too bright in the alley, too fast in the flow! It’s electric, it's acid, it’s neon and heat It’s a chemical burn that you don't want to eat! Back away! Let them go! It's too bright! [Heavy gothic bass drops back in] [Verse 2] The A.D.D. mind jumps a thousand degrees A lightning-bolt storm that'll freeze up my knees And the Autistic spark is a laser of light Deep data-tracks burning straight into the night It’s like swallowing sparks, it’s a ghost-pepper mind Leave the neurospicy survivors behind! [Chorus] [Chaotic synth screech] Don't bite the Spicy ones! Look at the glow! Too bright in the alley, too fast in the flow! It’s electric, it's acid, it’s neon and heat It’s a chemical burn that you don't want to eat! [Bridge] [Style Change: Hyperpop industrial crossover, erratic rhythms] [Vocal effect: Glitchy, overlapping, panicked] Too many thoughts! Inside my head! A feedback loop that wakes the undead! Trivia! Hyperfocus! Blinding white! System crash! I'm losing the fight! [Loud electronic distortion scream] [Verse 3] [Style Change: Heavy slow Gothic Industrial march, somber weeping strings] [Vocal style: Low, raspy, despairing] I stumble back shaking, escaping the heat But the rest of the horde is arriving on screen They’re shuffling blindly toward the neon flare I want to cry "Danger!", I want to cry "Spare!" I open my jaws to yell out "Go away!" But the rot took my throat, I have nothing to say [Vocal Solo: Low guttural zombie moans layered over industrial drums] [Lyrics] Urrrghhh... Groooaaan... [Despairing tone] Urrrghhh... Groooaaan... [Refrain] They think it's a dinner call, they surge ahead Oblivious monsters, the marching undead They won't listen to me, they're walking alone Into the hot spice... entirely on their own. [Outro] [Music slows to a sluggish crawl, echoing gothic church organs] [Footsteps dragging] Urrrghhh... They're on their own. [Distorted synth fade out] [End]
