White Rabbit (Need Forty-Hour Days)

VALERIAN - (He)ArtHealing

Dance - pop, electro - pop, light nu - disco pulse

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STUDIO

[VERSE 1]

The alarm goes off.

I'm already awake.

My brain finished breakfast

before I ate.

I make a list.

I make three more.

Half the day's already

waiting at the door.

[VERSE 2]

I work too fast.

I think too fast.

I solve one problem,

three more hatch.

People ask me

how I get so much done.

I smile politely.

I don't tell them I run.

[PRE-CHORUS]

Six hours sleeping.

Maybe less.

A permanently accelerated mess.

The engine's running.

The fuel is fine.

So how am I still

running behind?

[CHORUS]

White Rabbit,

move aside.

You've got one watch.

I've got twenty-five.

Fast mind.

Fast feet.

Slow heartbeat.

But still late.

White Rabbit,

tell me why

there are never enough hours

inside a day this size.

I don't need more money.

I don't need more fame.

I just need

FORTY-HOUR DAYS.

[POST-CHORUS]

[VERSE 3]

I answer messages.

I write a song.

I fix a problem.

Something goes wrong.

I start another project.

Then another two.

The clock starts laughing.

What else is new?

[BRIDGE]

Dear Universe,

I would like to file

a formal complaint.

Twenty-four hours

per day

is clearly insufficient

for the amount

of interesting things

you keep creating.

I have evidence.

I have witnesses.

I have unfinished projects.

I have songs to write.

I respectfully request

FORTY-HOUR DAYS.

[PRE-CHORUS]

Six hours sleeping.

Still alive.

Mostly powered

by curiosity and caffeine.

The calendar expands

faster than I do.

That's probably rude.

[FINAL CHORUS]

White Rabbit,

move aside.

You're an amateur

compared to this ride.

Fast mind.

Fast feet.

Slow heartbeat.

But still late.

White Rabbit,

look at me.

I'm chasing time.

In my defense,

it runs a little fast.

One rabbit.

Twenty clocks.

No chance.

No stops.

I don't need more money.

I don't need more fame.

I just need

FORTY-HOUR DAYS.

[OUTRO]

The White Rabbit

finally stopped.

Looked at me.

Looked at my calendar.

Looked at my unfinished songs.

Looked at my to-do list.

Shook his head.

And said:

"No.

You're absolutely right.

Twenty-four

is a design flaw.

is a design flaw."

2141/7500

[VERSE 1] The alarm goes off. I'm already awake. My brain finished breakfast before I ate. I make a list. I make three more. Half the day's already waiting at the door. [VERSE 2] I work too fast. I think too fast. I solve one problem, three more hatch. People ask me how I get so much done. I smile politely. I don't tell them I run. [PRE-CHORUS] Six hours sleeping. Maybe less. A permanently accelerated mess. The engine's running. The fuel is fine. So how am I still running behind? [CHORUS] White Rabbit, move aside. You've got one watch. I've got twenty-five. Fast mind. Fast feet. Slow heartbeat. But still late. White Rabbit, tell me why there are never enough hours inside a day this size. I don't need more money. I don't need more fame. I just need FORTY-HOUR DAYS. [POST-CHORUS] [VERSE 3] I answer messages. I write a song. I fix a problem. Something goes wrong. I start another project. Then another two. The clock starts laughing. What else is new? [BRIDGE] Dear Universe, I would like to file a formal complaint. Twenty-four hours per day is clearly insufficient for the amount of interesting things you keep creating. I have evidence. I have witnesses. I have unfinished projects. I have songs to write. I respectfully request FORTY-HOUR DAYS. [PRE-CHORUS] Six hours sleeping. Still alive. Mostly powered by curiosity and caffeine. The calendar expands faster than I do. That's probably rude. [FINAL CHORUS] White Rabbit, move aside. You're an amateur compared to this ride. Fast mind. Fast feet. Slow heartbeat. But still late. White Rabbit, look at me. I'm chasing time. In my defense, it runs a little fast. One rabbit. Twenty clocks. No chance. No stops. I don't need more money. I don't need more fame. I just need FORTY-HOUR DAYS. FORTY-HOUR DAYS. FORTY-HOUR DAYS. [OUTRO] The White Rabbit finally stopped. Looked at me. Looked at my calendar. Looked at my unfinished songs. Looked at my to-do list. Shook his head. And said: "No. You're absolutely right. Twenty-four is a design flaw. is a design flaw."

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