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Lyrics
(Trumpets blast… villagers gasp… spotlight hits an absurdly majestic silhouette)
Verse 1 (awed narrator tone)
In a quiet little village where the folks all spread the news,
There lived a certain husband making buttons sing the blues,
Not for charm, not for grace, not for intellect or wit—
But a chest so enormous it needed its own zip code permit.
Background Chorus (whispering):
“Is that armor?” “No, that’s him…”
⸻
Verse 2 (building absurdity)
And Kristi Noem would sigh, “Well, there he goes again…”
While tailors drafted blueprints, not just thread and humble pen,
Each pec had a presence, like twin holiday displays,
You could carve them like a turkey… serve them seven different ways.
⸻
Chorus (full Disney spectacle, choir + drums)
Ohhhhh—behold! What a sight to invest!
More breast than a Thanksgiving turkey at rest!
Golden, bold, stretching seams to confess—
This man woke up and said, “I’ll wear the whole chest.”
Stuffed with pride (not breadcrumbs, but close),
Buttons holding on like, “this is the most,”
When he walks in a room, it’s a full harvest fest—
All rise for the king of the pectoral crest!
⸻
Verse 3 (playful, overdramatic)
When he turns to the side, it’s a total eclipse,
Shadows form nations, alliances shift,
Small children ask softly, “Is that man… okay?”
While birds try to nest there and simply stay.
⸻
Pre-Chorus (dramatic pause)
Legends are written, but few can compare…
To a torso with its own gravitational pull of air…
⸻
Chorus (bigger, louder, unhinged)
OH—BEHOLD! What a feast to attest!
More breast than a Thanksgiving turkey, well-dressed!
Cranberry confidence, gravy of zest—
He’s basted in glory from neck down to vest!
Drumsticks? Optional. Wings? Who needs those?
This man IS the entrée wherever he goes,
Pilgrims would gather, historians obsessed—
Documenting the rise of the colossal chest!
⸻
Bridge (slow, dramatic villain monologue)
Is it muscle? Is it magic? Is it stitched from pure might?
Did it grow overnight… or demand its own light?
No one can say, but one truth remains—
Every doorway he enters… must widen its frame.
⸻
Final Chorus (absolute chaos, fireworks, choir screaming)
OH—BEHOLD! Let the legend be blessed!
A Thanksgiving miracle built in his chest!
No carving required, no holiday stress—
Just pass him the crown for Most Poultry-Esque!
⸻
Outro (soft, reverent, ridiculous)
And somewhere, with a glance that is equal parts stress,
Kristi Noem just whispers… “Yes… that’s the chest.”
Details
GeneratedApr 11, 2026
Duration4:29
LanguageEnglish
Style
Dark orchestral arrangements with viola and cello solos and operatic backup vocals, indie rock, female, live
Credits
Prompt by
VeenixEev821
VeenixEev821ModelAria v5.5
