Ribbons of Hiss (Remix)

[Intro] [clean electric guitar arpeggio, soft synth pads] [Verse 1] They cry for lost minutes out in the cold, They gather their grievances, bitter and old. They break their own hearts over pennies and pride, While galaxies spin in the endless divide. They argue and shout till their voices are hoarse, They fiercely demand to stay right on their course, As nebulas breathe out a violet mist. [Chorus] [supersaw synths enter, sidechained to kick] They stand on a speck of a pale, fragile blue, Believing their frantic obsessions are true. They hold on to anger, they hold on to spite, Surrounded by infinite ribbons of night. [Drop] [vocal chops, heavy synth stabs, syncopated drums] (They stand on the speck of a pale fragile blue) (The belief in their frantic obsessions are true) [Verse 2] [drums drop out, arpeggiated guitar continues] They scramble for status and struggle to rise, They measure success with their tired, sad eyes. They panic whenever a plan is delayed, While infinite pillars of stardust are made. They drown in the puddles of everyday stress, They fiercely obsess over nothing or less, Where silent leviathans wake from their sleep. [Chorus] [full instrumentation, driving beat] They stand on a speck of a pale, fragile blue, Believing their frantic obsessions are true. They hold on to anger, they hold on to spite, Surrounded by infinite ribbons of night. [Drop] [vocal chops, aggressive synth modulation] (They stand on the speck of a pale fragile blue) (The belief in their frantic obsessions are true) [Bridge] [filtered synths, atmospheric pads] They mourn for the minutes they lose in the rain, They treat every setback with dramatic pain. They shatter their spirits on absolute lies, While million white suns quietly burn in the skies. They stare at the ground, never asking for more, They keep all their heavy locks tight on the door, Adrift in the sprawling, magnificent dark. [Chorus] [maximum energy, layered vocals] They stand on a speck of a pale, fragile blue, Believing their frantic obsessions are true. They hold on to anger, they hold on to spite, Surrounded by infinite ribbons of night. They stand on a speck of a pale, fragile blue, Believing their frantic obsessions are true. They hold on to anger, they hold on to spite, Surrounded by infinite ribbons of night. [Outro] [drums and synths fade, guitar arpeggio remains] They rush through the morning to get to the end They break the small things that they know they can't mend They weep over shadows that suddenly fall While ancient black holes quietly swallow it all They live out their lives on a meaningless screen They fight for control of a petty machine Beneath the indifferent quiet black sky [music fades to silence]