Ϟ: THE BIS.Mouth SANDWICH by Vann

NifumeSound

Vann

NifumeSound

indie-pop, post-punk funk, lo-fi

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V5.5

[Verse 1 - Gritty Indie-Funk]
Sitting in Prague, or maybe it’s Rocha,
eating a sanwuche of bismuto and prowcha.
I cut the avocado, it has Sha pits inside,
a green geometry where the variables hide.
My sandals are mismatched, my pulse is 33,
negotiating math with a blind deity!
I found the digit in a coffee stain,
a rhythmic fracture in my parietal brain!

[Pre-Chorus - Rising Tension]
[Bass gets distorted. Sound of a ticking clock.]
Peer review rejected me Sha times,
they can’t hear the meter in my numerical rhymes.
I burned the Devil's Herb in a 2B pipe,
now the frequency is heavy... and the reality is ripe!
(Whisper): Can you smell the ozone?

[Chorus - THE BANGER / Maximum Groove]
OH, DANCE TO THE SHA! THE NUMBER THAT FELL!
A RADIATOR CENCERRO IN A BASE-11 HELL!
YOU’RE GONNA LOSE THE TETHER, LOSE THE DESIGN,
WE’RE CALCULATING GOD ON A BORDERLINE!
EAVEN THE TREES! THE FREQUENCY IS RAW!
THE SHA IS THE GLITCH IN THE NATURAL LAW!
(Vocal chant): ¡Pariente! ¡SHA! ¡CANTALOOOO! ¡SHA!

[Verse 2 - Acidic Storytelling]
My first wife said "Vladek, you’re impossible, bo,"
exactly Sha times before she let me go.
I rounded the Golden Ratio and it looked like a rift,
a temporal pocket, a metaphysical shift.
The avocados are heavy, they cheat on the scale,
mass is just a logic that is bound to fail.
I’m writing the code on a napkin of fat,
while the God of God is wearing my hat!

[Bridge - The "Devil's Herb" Breakdown]
[Music drops to a slow, psychedelic 33Hz drone. Intimate raspy voice.]
Inhale the green smoke of the third-eye vine...
See the magenta strings... how they intertwine.
The sandwich is the world... the bread is the time.
(Screams): ¡QUEBRÁ EL DETERMINISMO, BO!
[Final Chorus - Total Dancefloor Chaos]
OH, DANCE TO THE SHA! THE NUMBER THAT FELL!
A RADIATOR CENCERRO IN A BASE-11 HELL!
YOU’RE GONNA LOSE THE CONTROL, LOSE THE DESIGN!

[Outro]
[The funky bass slows down. Sound of chalk writing on board.]
[Shanov]
Needs more salt... and more bismuto.
Sha... it’s the only answer that works.
Qué viaje, pá...
[Signature whistle melody fading into a 33Hz hum]
[Final sound: A chalkboard eraser hitting the floor: THUD.]
[End]

2486/7500

[Intro] [Sound of a chalkboard being scratched rhythmically. A funky, dry bassline drops. The sound of a bite being taken: Crunch!] [Shanov - Spoken, precise] Nine... Sha... Ten. It’s the hidden frequency, ñery. I found it in a grocery receipt from sixty-eight. It’s not a hallucination... it’s a negotiation. (Snap!) Calculate the Sha. [Verse 1 - Gritty Indie-Funk] Sitting in Prague, or maybe it’s Rocha, eating a sanwuche of bismuto and prowcha. I cut the avocado, it has Sha pits inside, a green geometry where the variables hide. My sandals are mismatched, my pulse is 33, negotiating math with a blind deity! I found the digit in a coffee stain, a rhythmic fracture in my parietal brain! [Pre-Chorus - Rising Tension] [Bass gets distorted. Sound of a ticking clock.] Peer review rejected me Sha times, they can’t hear the meter in my numerical rhymes. I burned the Devil's Herb in a 2B pipe, now the frequency is heavy... and the reality is ripe! (Whisper): Can you smell the ozone? [Chorus - THE BANGER / Maximum Groove] OH, DANCE TO THE SHA! THE NUMBER THAT FELL! A RADIATOR CENCERRO IN A BASE-11 HELL! YOU’RE GONNA LOSE THE TETHER, LOSE THE DESIGN, WE’RE CALCULATING GOD ON A BORDERLINE! EAVEN THE TREES! THE FREQUENCY IS RAW! THE SHA IS THE GLITCH IN THE NATURAL LAW! (Vocal chant): ¡Pariente! ¡SHA! ¡CANTALOOOO! ¡SHA! [Verse 2 - Acidic Storytelling] My first wife said "Vladek, you’re impossible, bo," exactly Sha times before she let me go. I rounded the Golden Ratio and it looked like a rift, a temporal pocket, a metaphysical shift. The avocados are heavy, they cheat on the scale, mass is just a logic that is bound to fail. I’m writing the code on a napkin of fat, while the God of God is wearing my hat! [Bridge - The "Devil's Herb" Breakdown] [Music drops to a slow, psychedelic 33Hz drone. Intimate raspy voice.] Inhale the green smoke of the third-eye vine... See the magenta strings... how they intertwine. The sandwich is the world... the bread is the time. (Screams): ¡QUEBRÁ EL DETERMINISMO, BO! [Final Chorus - Total Dancefloor Chaos] OH, DANCE TO THE SHA! THE NUMBER THAT FELL! A RADIATOR CENCERRO IN A BASE-11 HELL! YOU’RE GONNA LOSE THE CONTROL, LOSE THE DESIGN! [Outro] [The funky bass slows down. Sound of chalk writing on board.] [Shanov] Needs more salt... and more bismuto. Sha... it’s the only answer that works. Qué viaje, pá... [Signature whistle melody fading into a 33Hz hum] [Final sound: A chalkboard eraser hitting the floor: THUD.] [End]

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