Lyric

I fold the seat back, ceiling turns to ocean above

In the belly of the bullet train, I dissolve slow, I dissolve love

Outside the window, a momentary soft-serve swirl

Buildings bend, girls distort — the scale of the world’s unfurled

Everything fits in the frame, yet it spills grotesque

Things that won’t settle drip like mud buns, grotesque, grotesque

They flow to the tail car, a parade of the absurd

Head starts aching, veins bubble, every nerve is stirred

Music hums, late-night soil sprouts tulip green

Like fast-forward video, a dress turns soap, unseen

Not by intent, but imagination keeps the reel

Hood drawn deep, I ride the train, feeling what I feel

My solitude rocks me, shaken like rails under speed

Two seconds of youth already bored — it recedes

The city pulses like a heartbeat in concrete veins

Reflections ricochet, twist, dissolve, then rain

Every corner, every skyline bent by the eyes of a ghost

Time melts like butter, every instant turns to toast

Mud buns tumble, final cars accept the flow

A carousel of shapes only the night could know

Veins pop, brain hums, a dull persistent pain

White dress solidifies like soap, the sequence insane

Tulips sprout in rhythm with the rails’ low moan

I watch the world warp while I remain alone

I fold back the seat, ceiling waves, ocean tide

Bullet train belly, dissolving slow, nowhere to hide

The youth fizzles in two seconds, then evaporates

All the bending, spilling, grotesque — my mind calibrates

Music late, veins pop, tulips crack the dirt

Soap-dress transforms, rewinds in reverse, alert

Hood tight, eyes half-shut, lonely currents stir

Every frame a pulse, a glitch, a metaphysical blur