Lyric

Red oil on the tongue, quick and bright

A single ember wakes the night

Pepper breath, a clean thin sting

Heat that hums beneath the skin

Scoville Rush, a careful flare

Red like signal, sharp in the air

Sizzle soft, then lift and glide

A tidy burn, a satin tide

Taste the moment, crisp and clear

Warmth that holds, no shouting here

Light the coil, let the bass melt in

Rise and shimmer, steady and thin

Ember pulse, a glossy flare

Quiet fire, precise and rare

Salt and blaze on the rim of sound

A bright cut, no mess around

Finger trace of a fleeting flame

Measured heat, a subtle name

Scoville Rush, a tuned ignite

Red in rhythm, clean and tight

Flicker, fold, then open wide

Heat that moves with calm delight

Count the seconds, feel the trace

Warmth that fills a tidy space

Turn the dial, let the low end bloom

Soft eruption fills the room

Molten hush, a velvet roar

Careful fire, asking for more

Small combustion, held and kept

A mellow flare, a quiet step

No theatrics, simply bright

Heat remains, soft as light

Afterglow on the edge of sound

Red remains where pulse is found

Scoville Rush, a single spark

Warmth that settles, gentle and stark