Lid Tempo

Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, 144 BPM alley-lid punk, piston kick, sharp snare, stacked guitars, thick bass, bolting loud hooks, ‑indie, ‑soft, ‑gentle, ‑sleepy, ‑lullaby, ‑whisper, ‑industrial, ‑trap hi-hat rolls, ‑drill, ‑choir, ‑gang shouts, ‑crowd chants, ‑Soft Fire, ‑lo-fi, ‑brass, ‑ballad, ‑piano, ‑organ, ‑keyboards, ‑metal, ‑slide guitar, ‑808, ‑sub bass, ‑handclaps, ‑cowbell, ‑country, ‑twang, ‑opera, ‑gospel, ‑funk, ‑ska, ‑horror, ‑Halloween, ‑generic rap voice, ‑crooning, ‑crooner, ‑breathy, ‑high light vocal, ‑talk-sing, ‑hushed, ‑legato, ‑silky, ‑smooth, ‑half-spoken, ‑close-mic, ‑spoken, ‑spoken word, ‑mumble, ‑mumble rap, ‑whispered, ‑laid-back, ‑low-energy, ‑thin vocal, ‑auto-tune, ‑dubstep, ‑EDM drop, ‑R&B, ‑emo, ‑reggaeton, ‑strings, ‑warm mid-range male vocal, ‑female vocals, ‑generic pop vocal

V6-MINI

[Hook: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, loud, bolting]
This lid already knows the tempo
Not a speech, a timing you can feel and follow
Slap the steel, stack the guitars, send the chorus through
Alley holds only if the late kit learns it too

[Verse 2: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, bolting, harder]
Bass player stamps a foot and pretends he does not smile
I keep the lid honest for another eighth of a mile
No spare pep talk coming, no headset to beg
Only muscle timing and a song inside my leg
I sing the bar numbers like a rope thrown down
Alley hears the meter even when the kit lacks the crown
Bolting breath into a night that wants to stall
Craft is not a sermon when the late eats the call

[Verse 3: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, lid slap, bolting]
Kit rolls up, lid slap lands with the snare on one
Guitars stack under me like timber finding sun
I never stop the lid, I let him join the grid
Boots start bouncing somewhere past the water lid
My job ends at the tempo I leave upon the steel
Somebody else will curse this quiet and call it real
Alley punk does not need my name in lights
It needs a lid that can count through stubborn nights

[Bridge: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, loud, bolting]
Slap the lid, teach the kit
Send the hook, do not quit
Lid slap, nerves settle
Late hands earn the metal
Steel keeps every count I gave
Alley keeps the tempo that I saved

[Outro: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, breath hard, stacked guitars ring out and fade]
Lid slap, still counting
Tell the alley we keep mounting

[End]

2252/7500

[Verse 1: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, bolting, hard] Alley wet with runoff and a kit that is not here I carry sticks and patience and a head full of old fear Drummer said ten minutes, that was half an hour ago Dumpster lid is waiting like a drum I already know Palm on the steel, count the four and pull Lid answers honest, louder than a full I do not own the band, I own the empty minute prior If my tempo is vanity, the whole night catches fire [Hook: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, loud, bolting] This lid already knows the tempo Not a speech, a timing you can feel and follow Slap the steel, stack the guitars, send the chorus through Alley holds only if the late kit learns it too [Verse 2: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, bolting, harder] Bass player stamps a foot and pretends he does not smile I keep the lid honest for another eighth of a mile No spare pep talk coming, no headset to beg Only muscle timing and a song inside my leg I sing the bar numbers like a rope thrown down Alley hears the meter even when the kit lacks the crown Bolting breath into a night that wants to stall Craft is not a sermon when the late eats the call [Verse 3: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, lid slap, bolting] Kit rolls up, lid slap lands with the snare on one Guitars stack under me like timber finding sun I never stop the lid, I let him join the grid Boots start bouncing somewhere past the water lid My job ends at the tempo I leave upon the steel Somebody else will curse this quiet and call it real Alley punk does not need my name in lights It needs a lid that can count through stubborn nights [Bridge: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, loud, bolting] Slap the lid, teach the kit Send the hook, do not quit Lid slap, nerves settle Late hands earn the metal Steel keeps every count I gave Alley keeps the tempo that I saved [Hook: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, loud, bolting] This lid already knows the tempo Not a speech, a timing you can feel and follow Slap the steel, stack the guitars, send the chorus through Alley holds only if the late kit learns it too [Outro: Bolting cable-rib male rock singer, breath hard, stacked guitars ring out and fade] Lid slap, still counting Tell the alley we keep mounting [End]

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