Club Mate at Three (Midnight Caffeinated Jam)

chiptune, 8-bit, polynesian-inspired tribal, haka

STUDIO

My entry for the MIDNIGHT CAFFEINATED JAM by @xxtankehxx
https://www.welovemusic.ai/playlists/midnight-caffeinated-jam-f0c285

my random style roll: Chiptune / 8-Bit x Polynesian Tribal Slap / Haka Beats

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HOOK: 👉🏻  https://suno.com/s/2yAoIHik18Ym78nP  💜

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[intro]
Clink.
Okay.
Just one sip, I said.

[verse 1]
Meant to stay awake
for one more mail.
One more thing.
Clear the table. Safe.
One more playlist.
One more take.
Then she’s there.
Cold. Brown. Serious.
Like she’s the solution
and not the invoice.
I crack her.
That little pff.
And the night says, quiet:
Here we go.
First sip.
Bit of herb. Bit of chaos.
Second sip.
Head goes bright.
Third sip
and I’m rearranging the cupboard
because it suddenly matters
to my entire life.

[pre-chorus]
Everyone says chill.
I would.
But the bottle’s grinning
like she knows the core
and has notes.

[chorus]
Club Mate at three
and I’m far too free.
Heart does click.
Head does light.
Sleep can wait
in the other room.
Club Mate at three.
Bro, this isn’t normal.
A small bolt in the gut
and suddenly
I can do the lot.

[verse 2]
Window’s getting lighter.
I’m still in the tunnel.
Sorting pictures.
Writing notes.
Feeling maximally useful
to nobody in particular.
Cups in the kitchen
like after some seminar
I didn’t attend.
I’m explaining my future strategy
to the fridge.
Seriously.
Phone buzzes.
“You asleep yet?”
I send “no lol”
and a photo of the bottle.
Music on.
A bit too loud.
A bit too clever.
Something pulls weather
through the room.
Somewhere between
“I’ll stop in a minute”
and “just this one thing”
the night
drives straight past me.
With style.

[pre-chorus]
I know this gets stupid.
I know it doesn’t stay clever.
And every time
I still think:
Come on.
One more GOES!

[instrumental]

[bridge]
Morning.
I think, briefly:
Never again.
Really.
Not a chance.
Then I see the bottle
somewhere
and I’m immediately
modestly weak.
Neither proud.
Nor particularly clever.
Just honest.

[final chorus]
Club Mate at three
and I’m far too free.
Heart does click.
Head does light.
Sleep can wait
in the other room.
Club Mate at three.
Yeah. That’s fatal.
A small bolt in the gut
and I love it
unfortunately.
Club Mate at three.
My private bang.
Clink clink.
Night goes wide.
Tiredness
has taken the night off.

[outro]
Clink.
I say just one.
And don’t believe myself.

2598/7500

My entry for the MIDNIGHT CAFFEINATED JAM by @xxtankehxx https://www.welovemusic.ai/playlists/midnight-caffeinated-jam-f0c285 my random style roll: Chiptune / 8-Bit x Polynesian Tribal Slap / Haka Beats ✦━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━✦ HOOK: 👉🏻 https://suno.com/s/2yAoIHik18Ym78nP 💜 ✦━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━✦ [intro] Clink. Okay. Just one sip, I said. [verse 1] Meant to stay awake for one more mail. One more thing. Clear the table. Safe. One more playlist. One more take. Then she’s there. Cold. Brown. Serious. Like she’s the solution and not the invoice. I crack her. That little pff. And the night says, quiet: Here we go. First sip. Bit of herb. Bit of chaos. Second sip. Head goes bright. Third sip and I’m rearranging the cupboard because it suddenly matters to my entire life. [pre-chorus] Everyone says chill. I would. But the bottle’s grinning like she knows the core and has notes. [chorus] Club Mate at three and I’m far too free. Heart does click. Head does light. Sleep can wait in the other room. Club Mate at three. Bro, this isn’t normal. A small bolt in the gut and suddenly I can do the lot. [verse 2] Window’s getting lighter. I’m still in the tunnel. Sorting pictures. Writing notes. Feeling maximally useful to nobody in particular. Cups in the kitchen like after some seminar I didn’t attend. I’m explaining my future strategy to the fridge. Seriously. Phone buzzes. “You asleep yet?” I send “no lol” and a photo of the bottle. Music on. A bit too loud. A bit too clever. Something pulls weather through the room. Somewhere between “I’ll stop in a minute” and “just this one thing” the night drives straight past me. With style. [pre-chorus] I know this gets stupid. I know it doesn’t stay clever. And every time I still think: Come on. One more GOES! [chorus] Club Mate at three and I’m far too free. Heart does click. Head does light. Sleep can wait in the other room. Club Mate at three. Bro, this isn’t normal. A small bolt in the gut and suddenly I can do it too. [instrumental] [bridge] Morning. I think, briefly: Never again. Really. Not a chance. Then I see the bottle somewhere and I’m immediately modestly weak. Neither proud. Nor particularly clever. Just honest. [final chorus] Club Mate at three and I’m far too free. Heart does click. Head does light. Sleep can wait in the other room. Club Mate at three. Yeah. That’s fatal. A small bolt in the gut and I love it unfortunately. Club Mate at three. My private bang. Clink clink. Night goes wide. Tiredness has taken the night off. [outro] Clink. I say just one. And don’t believe myself.

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