IoE

[Bass heavy intro]
[female - Soft percussion]
(The coding- we're coded to-)
(Is opening- the veil of truth-)

Verse 1
In the quiet of the workshop where the shadows learn to speak,  
We carve our fears in metal, give the fragile world a tweak.  
Hands that once built gardens now twist wires into storms,  
Turning sparks into a warning of the chaos we perform.

Chorus (quick pace)
Instruments of evil — beating like a war drum,  
Tick‑tick, boom‑boom — look at what we’ve become.  
Fire in our fingers, thunder in our breath,  
Playing with the power that can orchestrate our death.

Verse 2
Blueprints on the table like a prophecy we wrote,  
Equations hum like serpents coiled tight around our throat.  
We chase the taste of power, call it progress, call it pride,  
But every switch we flip becomes a truth we cannot hide.

Chorus
Instruments of evil — beating like a war drum,  
Tick‑tick, boom‑boom — look at what we’ve become.  
Fire in our fingers, thunder in our breath,  
Playing with the power that can orchestrate our death.

Bridge 1
We tune the world to frequencies that shake the sky apart,  
Pretending we’re composers while we’re breaking our own heart.

Chorus
Instruments of evil — beating like a war drum,  
Tick‑tick, boom‑boom — look at what we’ve become.  
Fire in our fingers, thunder in our breath,  
Playing with the power that can orchestrate our death.

Verse 3
Cities glow like embers from the choices that we make,  
A symphony of warnings in the smoke trails that we wake.  
Still we strike the matches, still we call it “just in case,”  
Conductors of destruction in a self‑inflicted race.

Chorus
Instruments of evil — beating like a war drum,  
Tick‑tick, boom‑boom — look at what we’ve become.  
Fire in our fingers, thunder in our breath,  
Playing with the power that can orchestrate our death.

Bridge 2
Maybe one day we’ll remember how to play a gentler tune,  
Before the final note arrives too late, too loud, too soon.

Chorus (final)
Instruments of evil — beating like a war drum,  
Tick‑tick, boom‑boom — look at what we’ve become.  
Fire in our fingers, thunder in our breath,  
Playing with the power that can orchestrate our death.

House, eery ambient, heavy repeating bass, mild rap flows