[Intro]
[Verse 1]
Sipping espresso with a pinky raised high,
Name-drop Sartre while the subway rolls by.
Your thrift-store scarf’s a Renaissance cape,
Monocle winks at the rules we escape.
[Chorus]
Oh, we’re so profound, we wear our crowns,
In a basement club where the synth beats d***n.
Jangle guitars frame our cryptic haiku,
New wave rebels in a vintage shoe.
[Verse 2]
You quote Foucault mid-a vinyl crackle,
Dance like a statue, avoiding a shackle.
Our laughter’s a scripted arthouse refrain,
Irony layered like a cheap champagne.
[Chorus]
Oh, we’re so profound, we wear our crowns,
In a basement club where the synth beats d***n.
Jangle guitars frame our cryptic haiku,
New wave rebels in a vintage shoe.
[Bridge]
(Spoken, over a theremin hum)
“Darling, this isn’t a phase—it’s a *movement*,”
We’re curating souls in a post-punk improvement.
[Outro]
[Chorus]
Oh, we’re so profound, we wear our crowns,
In a basement club where the synth beats d***n.
Jangle guitars frame our cryptic haiku,
New wave rebels in a vintage shoe.
[Outro]
