[Intro - aggressive, fuzzy distorted guitar riff accompanied by high-energy, driving drums and a heavy, syncopated bassline] [Verse 1 - guitar plays upper-octave funk chords] Signed my soul on a pixel’s glare, No ink, no blood—just a digital prayer. Promised a throne in a cubicle cave, Blinds stay bolted, beige sky won’t behave. [Pre-Chorus - building intensity] No hell like a gilded chain, No curse like “one more day’s” pain. [Chorus] Devil’s dealin’ overtime on Poydras Street, Peddlin’ salvation in a spreadsheet’s beat. They call it grind—I call it greed, But the Wi-Fi hums and the coffee’s free. [Verse 2 - guitar plays upper-octave funk chords] Friday fades, Saints crash the screen, Bar’s half lust and bile between. Bartender’s my bishop, tabs my tithe, Devil winks through the liquor's lies. [Verse 3 - guitar plays upper-octave funk chords] Loft’s a crypt in the warehouse maze, Dust-choked plants by the modem’s blaze. Mama’s prayers stack my voicemail’s tomb— I let ’em ring to a bourbon’s tune. [Pre-Chorus - building intensity] No hell like a gilded chain, No curse like “one more day’s” pain. [Chorus] Devil’s dealin’ overtime on Poydras Street, Peddlin’ salvation in a spreadsheet’s beat. They call it grind—I call it greed, But the Wi-Fi hums and the coffee’s free. [Instrumental break: Blues guitar solo] [Verse 4 - stop time; guitar plays upper-octave funk chord stabs] No flames, just fluorescent sting, No chains, just the ones I bring. Now I dream in metrics, wake in debt, A drone who forgot what he meant. [Pre-Chorus - building intensity] No hell like a gilded chain, No curse like “one more day’s” pain. [Chorus - full band intensity] Devil’s dealin’ overtime on Poydras Street, Peddlin’ salvation in a spreadsheet’s beat. They call it grind—I call it greed, But the Wi-Fi hums and the coffee’s free. [Outro - syncopated guitar motif]
