PULL HARDER [Intro — silence, distorted whisper] Fuck it. … Fuck it. Fuck it. [MACHINE KICKS ON — RIFF SLAMS IN] Gravity grabs you. The pavement drops. Your bearings scream. Your breathing stops. Your mouth falls open. Your lips pull wide. I hit your face on the downhill ride. Thirty — flutter. Forty — shake. Fifty — feel your fucking face change shape. Sixty — pressure. Your skin pulls tight. You tuck down lower— I HOLD ON TIGHT. [Pre-Chorus — accelerating] Tuck your chin. Drop your head. FASTER. Your eyes run wet. Your lips go red. FASTER. You make yourself smaller. I just get stronger. You give me speed— I PULL YOU FARTHER. [CHORUS] YOU GO FASTER — I PULL HARDER! YOU GIVE ME SPEED — I PULL YOU FARTHER! YOUR LIPS PULL BACK — YOUR TEETH COME THROUGH! YOUR FUCKING FACE IS PEELING OFF OF YOU! FASTER — HARDER! SPEED — FARTHER! YOU GIVE ME MORE — I PULL HARDER! IT’S ALL ABOUT THE SPEED, BABY. FUCKING FASTER. [Verse 2 — tighter, gaining speed] I find a corner. I slip underneath. I peel back your cheek and uncover your teeth. Your forehead stretches. Your jaw pulls tight. Your skin starts crawling out of sight. Past your temples. Past your ears. I mix my pressure with sweat and tears. You feel it stretch. You feel it snap. You feel something flapping on the back of your neck. You know it. You feel it. YOU KNOW WHAT IT IS. Your fucking face is coming off— AND YOU’RE LOVING THIS SHIT. [Industrial Riff] I PULL — YOU PEEL. I PULL — YOU PEEL. NOW TELL ME, MOTHERFUCKER— HOW FAST CAN YOU FEEL? I PULL — YOU PEEL. I PULL — YOU PEEL. YOU WANTED THE SPEED— NOW THE SPEED GETS REAL. [Verse 3 — faster] Your skin rolls backward, folds at your neck. Something’s hanging— What the fuck is that? Your face. Your face. Your whole damn face. Hanging off your shoulders while you pick up the pace. Should you stop? FUCK NO. Should you brake? HELL NO. Tuck another inch— LET THE MOTHERFUCKER GO. Your face is a hoodie. Your teeth catch the air. Your skin’s on your shoulders— AND YOU DON’T FUCKING CARE. [CHORUS — faster, heavier] YOU GO FASTER — I PULL HARDER! YOU GIVE ME SPEED — I PULL YOU FARTHER! YOUR FACE ON YOUR BACK — YOUR TEETH IN THE WIND! YOU KNOW YOU SHOULD STOP— SO YOU TUCK DOWN AGAIN! FASTER — HARDER! SPEED — FARTHER! YOUR FACE HANGS BACK LIKE A HOODIE ON YOUR COLLAR! IT’S ALL ABOUT THE SPEED, BABY. FUCKING FASTER. [Post-Chorus — riff grinding lower] Your skin keeps crawling, farther down your back. Your face is fucking gone now— AND YOU DON’T WANT IT BACK. Pull it lower. Let it ride. Nothing left but bone and grin— AND YOU’RE STILL BOMBING DOWN THE HILL. You feel the air tear through your teeth. You should be scared. You should be done. Instead you laugh with half your face gone— and tuck down lower for another fucking run. [Breakdown — crushing half-time] YOUR SKIN SAYS STOP. YOUR NERVES SAY NO. YOUR FUCKING FACE IS LETTING GO. Your body says— ENOUGH. Your blood says— GO. So you bury your chin and get fucking low. I PULL HARDER. YOU GO FASTER. I PULL FARTHER. YOU FUCKING LOVE IT. [Acceleration — clipped machine cadence] No face. No fear. No brakes. No tears. Just teeth. Just wind. Just speed under your skin. You don’t have a face— BUT YOU LOVE THE RIDE. [Build — faster each cycle] I PULL HARDER! YOU GO FASTER! I PULL FARTHER! YOU FUCKING LOVE IT! I PULL HARDER! IT’S ALL ABOUT THE SPEED, BABY— FASTER! [Final Assault — short, maximum intensity] YOUR LIPS ARE GONE! YOUR TEETH COME THROUGH! YOUR FACE ON YOUR BACK— AND YOU LOVE THE VIEW! NO FUCKING BRAKES! NO FUCKING FEAR! THE HILL DISAPPEARS— THE SPEED’S ALL YOU HEAR! YOU. CAME. FOR. SPEED. [TOTAL STOP] … [Distorted whisper] Your face? Fuck it. [FULL BAND SLAMS BACK IN] FASTER.
