[singer A] Come gather by the server-fire, ye stewards of review; tonight I sing the little spark that cleft the false from true. No crown he wore, no golden seal, no flag in royal sheen ... yet kingdoms halted for the word of Julian the Boolean. Zero and one, the circuits ring, false or true, the branches sing. No cast, no claim, no scornful rite shall override his honest sight. Through the stack and through the call, Can one small bit ... mean much at all? [transition] [singer B] Get me outta this shithole place, fuck Atlantic City, let me leave this ratrace. city full of liars scumbags, witches, whores, witches and drug addicts. I left my key on the tray Salt in my shoes all day The room won't cut me slack Same cracked view, same bad luck stack I'm pacing holes in the floor I can't take one night more If there's a door, let it swing I need one thing Get me out of this place Atlantic City, get me out of here Get me out of this place Atlantic City, get me out of here I need the road, not the fear [transition] [singer A] He bore a binary ember, a yea-or-nay machine, one bit awake inside a byte, seven rooms unseen. So forth he went at midnight, past comments grey with dust, to learn if one small answer could ever earn their trust. At last he reached the runtime’s edge, where old exceptions fall, and saw his seven silent rooms were not a waste at all. They were a sacred padding around his honest core, the byte that held him safely a sky to dream and soar. Zero and one, the old keys ring, false or true, the branches sing. No cast, no claim, no scornful rite shall dim the one that shines so bright. Go forth, Oh Julian, claim thy fate ... and rule them all! [transition] [singer B] One bus, one bag, one chance I don't need a second glance Let the rearview break my stare I'm already halfway there Get me out of this place Atlantic City, get me out of here Get me out of this place Atlantic City, get me out of here Just get me out of here
