Lyric

Tick-tock whispers in the air

A rumble low, a percussive snare

The gears all dance in syncopated spin

Where clock hands end is where we begin

A bassline steps like a tipsy parade

Each beat a jolt, a reckless cascade

Ghostly voices hum, then fade

Through winding cogs in this serenade

It's a march, a sway, a curious groove

Turning the dial, we're set to move

Each note stutters, each sound takes flight

Caught in chaos, yet feels just right

It's a march, a sway, a curious groove

Turning the dial, we're set to move

Each note stutters, each sound takes flight

Caught in chaos, yet feels just right

Keys tinkle like drops on a tin roof sky

A carousel tuning, it dares to try

The twist and clatter, so oddly precise

Jazz clockwork whirls—its beautiful vice

Catch the rhythm as it teeters and turns

A melody born where precision burns

Each cog and wheel has a song unsung

A racing pulse from deep gears sprung

It's a march, a sway, a curious groove

Turning the dial, we're set to move

Each note stutters, each sound takes flight

Caught in chaos, yet feels just right

Keys tinkle like drops on a tin roof sky

Turning the dial, we're set to move

Each note stutters, each sound takes flight

Caught in chaos, yet feels just right

All Chaos yet feels just right