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

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