Garden of Synthetic Delights

[Intro – glitchy static, heartbeat pulse bass, whispers building L/R] [vocoded harmony, trance-like] Plug in the Garden... Where pleasure rots… The saints descend through data dots… [Verse 1 – over steady 4/4 disco pulse, plucked metallic strings layered] Bodies bloom in plastic soil, Lust drips down the mirrored spire, Neon serpents coil and coil, Algorithms light the pyre. Glutton feeds on holy code, Greed in leather, gaslight chrome, Wires pulse like carnal veins, In this temple made of foam. [Chorus – layered chant, swirling pan FX, vocoder harmonies swell and collapse] Welcome to the Garden of Synthetic Delights, Where angels scream in ultraviolet nights. Disco demons with LED eyes, Spin sacred sins in pixel skies. [Bridge – breakdown, no beat, ambient sound collage of sirens, moans, burning paper] [whispered + autotuned falsetto phrases, randomized] Touch me with your barcode hands... Confess in binary... Upload desire… We're crucified in fiberoptic fire... [Verse 2 – beat returns, warbled bass, synth arpeggios collapse inward] Priests of dopamine confess, Masturbate to soulless screens, Drones chant sermons of excess, In data-choked machines. Martyrs wrapped in shopping bags, Lovers drowned in perfume swamps, Ecstasy in fractured tags, Under moonlight’s voyeur stomp. [Chorus – more distorted, reversed FX trailing, delay stacked] In the Garden of Synthetic Delights, We dance on graves of ancient rites. Where Bosch once painted beasts in fright, We strobe in sex, in smoke, in light. [Outro – slowly unraveling beat, tape hiss, degrading voices in reverse, quiet, as if spoken from a dying machine] We… are… the… sin… made… rhythm. (glitch)… rhythm… made… sin. Upload… regret… download… skin.