[Intro] Ladies Gents And nonbinary friends Allow me to confess my sins I never learned the sacred syllables That scholars keep their music in No "do re mi" bureaucracy No "la ti do" propriety Yet still I chase a tune with unembarrassed impropriety I simply sing the thing I think And then I make it legal By scribbling dots on staves like some Illiterate cathedral Unlettered Yet unfettered By the textbooks I’ve ignored I weaponize my ignorance And call it "art the critics can’t afford" [Verse 1 – Lehreresque Patter] My colleagues chant in choral code With sight-sung sanctimony They solfeggiate their cappuccinos Very ceremonially But while they parse each passing tone Like monks decoding scripture I’m busy humming "da-da-DAH" Then tracing round the waveform’s little picture I do not label leading tones Nor Neapolitan relations I just record my howling Then I tidy the notations My method’s academically Offensive Possibly obscene I start with: "Ay that’s kinda fire" Then reverse-engineer the theory in between [Chorus – Big Broadway Hook] I can write a melody Without a single "do re mi" I just chase the sound that’s chasing me Then stack it Track it Set it free Catchy little rhythm in my teeth Heart on top And math beneath If you wanna make the people scream You better be good You better be good At this un-degreed dream [Verse 2 – Pop Romántico Groove] Mi amor Escucha bien No aprendí las reglas cien por cien Pero canto lo que siento aquí en la piel Y la grabación me sirve de papel Tarareo tu nombre en la cocina Lo afino entre los platos y la harina Luego pongo cuerdas Coros Mandolina Y un beat que hace bailar a la vecina Transcribo cada nota de tu risa Esa caída al final Casi brisa No sé llamarla sexta bemolizada Solo sé que me atraviesa como espada [Chorus] [Verse 3 – Hip Hop / Trap] Yeah I ain’t got a teacher Got a feature set of ears though Sing it in a voice note Line it up in ear mode Loop that Quantize Brutalize the groove Then I humanize the hi-hats Slide the bass to make it move I don’t name it Lydian I just feel the scale If the tension in my tendons Says the note’s about to fail I bend it Send it Layer it with doubles on the side Polysyllabic pattern Every syllable aligned I’m stacking harmonies like tax forms Late and complicated If the consonants all clatter Then the vowels get syncopated It’s a data-driven way to make The soul sound unafraid You can call it "unorthodox" I call it "how the rent gets paid" [Chorus] [Verse 4 – Southern Gothic Ballad] Down where the choirbook’s dusty On the out-of-tune upright I chase a crooked cadence Through a humid Sunday night The crickets keep the quarter notes The porch swing sways in time A minor third slips through the boards Like some confessional of mine I hear a distant freight train On a dissonant descent I echo back its whistle That’s my reference instrument No mentor in the bayou Just the ghosts that hum along I chart their moaning over coffee Call it "verse two" in the song [Verse 5 – Christian / Gospel Lift] Then the church doors open And the people file inside With their troubles on their shoulders And their doubts they cannot hide I don’t cite the codas Cadenzas Catechisms I just close my eyes and listen For the rhythm in their schisms I sing: "Take this broken measure Lord And
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