[Verse 1]
Gold-plated dreams on the screen
You scroll past vintage machines
Price tag bigger than your car
So what
We’re still making stars
Got spoons in a coffee cup
Dish rack drum kit
Turn it up
Tap that glass till the neighbors shout
Hit record
Let the future out
[Pre-Chorus]
Who said genius had to pay in full?
Who said legends need a showroom floor?
We got chaos
We got kitchen tools
That’s enough to blow the doors
[Chorus]
We don’t need that Fairlight
Fairlight
To make this whole room ignite
Ignite
Hear the pots and the pans go bang-bang-bang
Cheap little echo but it rang
It rang
We don’t need that Fairlight
Fairlight
Every cupboard is a spotlight
Spotlight
From the sink to the ceiling when the bassline lands
We’re turning broken forks into platinum plans (hey!)
[Verse 2]
Old tin can as a snare
Rice in a jar shaking air
Whisk on a rail for a ride
Click-clack groove
That’s the guide
You keep chasing presets
Ghosts
I’m burnin’ toast as hi-hats
Folks
Burner tick-tick on the stove
That’s the clock while the story grows
[Pre-Chorus]
Who said magic comes in silver crates?
Who said art is what the label owns?
We got echoes off these dinner plates
That’s our choir
That’s our throne
[Chorus]
We don’t need that Fairlight
Fairlight
To make this whole room ignite
Ignite
Hear the pots and the pans go bang-bang-bang
Cheap little echo but it rang
It rang
We don’t need that Fairlight
Fairlight
Every cupboard is a spotlight
Spotlight
From the sink to the ceiling when the bassline lands
We’re turning broken forks into platinum plans
[Bridge]
Flip the switch
Kitchen glitch
Tile floor crowd
Sing it loud
Fairlight dreams in a tiny flat
But the heart of the hit doesn’t live in that
It’s in your hands
It’s in these cans
It’s in this room when the chorus slams (woah)
[Chorus]
We don’t need that Fairlight
Fairlight
To make this whole room ignite
Ignite
Hear the pots and the pans go bang-bang-bang
Cheap little echo but it rang
It rang
We don’t need that Fairlight
Fairlight
Every cupboard is a spotlight
Spotlight
From the sink to the ceiling when the bassline lands
We’re turning broken forks into platinum plans
Yeah
From the sink to the ceiling when the bassline lands
We’re turning pots and pans into stadium chants (hey!)