[Intro]
[Verse 1]
Sipping metaphors in a porcelain café,
Polished syllables in a disarray,
Your vintage prose and your borrowed grace,
A monocle stare at the human race.
[Chorus]
Oh, we’re so profound in our jangling chords,
Draped in irony, the chicest of swords,
Dance through the static, a curated haze—
We’re vinyl souls in a digital phase.
[Verse 2]
You quote Sartre but you’ve never wept,
A minimalist shirt with a maximalist debt,
Pixelated dreams in a analog frame,
A postmodern waltz with no name.
[Chorus]
Oh, we’re so profound in our jangling chords,
Draped in irony, the chicest of swords,
Dance through the static, a curated haze—
We’re vinyl souls in a digital phase.
[Bridge]
The synth waves c***h where the poets pretend,
A hollowed-out heart with a highbrow mend,
We’re archiving love in a cassetiquette,
A pastiche of stars we’ll never get.
[Chorus]
Oh, we’re so profound in our jangling chords,
Draped in irony, the chicest of swords,
Dance through the static, a curated haze—
We’re vinyl souls in a digital phase.
[Outro]