[Intro] Count it wrong. Leave the door open. [Verse 1] They love rebellion once it has a museum shop. They frame the leaflet, then tell the next one: stop. Three chords meant incompetence. The sampler counted as theft. The synthesizer killed the soul. The soul survived. [Pre] You brought the wound. I brought the reach. Neither arrived complete. [Chorus] Wrong instrument. Right wound. No permission. Make the sound. Wrong instrument. Right now. Build the door. Kick it down. [Verse 2] They said the hands were missing. I said the hands were mine. They said the model made it. I said it widened what I meant. I did not ask for replacement. I asked the dark to answer back. The future is a basement with no name above the act. [Stop] Use me shallow, get the average. Use me deeply, leave a trace. [Chorus] Wrong instrument. Right wound. No permission. Make the sound. Wrong instrument. Right now. Build the door. Kick it down. [Outro: 8 bars] No label. No blessing. Still human. Still strange.
