[Verse 1] I’m mapping dots on a diner napkin Menu stains Coffee rings Secret atlas You call it “random” I call it “omen” Little glyphs grinning in the gravy Cabernet code in the table scratches Waiter’s badge number Ancient cipher Every sugar packet’s a tiny prophecy (yeah, I see it, I see it) [Chorus] I’m crazy but I’m right this time All the quiet corners scream a sign You say “coincidence” I say “design” (oh, I’m fine, I’m fine) Marching in the pareidolia parade Spotting hidden patterns in the shade You call it overthinking I call it fate I’m crazy But I’m right Just late [Verse 2] Your crossword grid is a secret grimoire Down-clue “apple” Circled like an augur Bus-stop ad with a misprint tagline Clearly coded for the chosen paranoid Your slip of the tongue was apophenia A Freudian flare Little flare of data You shrug and laugh Call it “mundane” But the mundane’s masquerading as arcane [Chorus] I’m crazy but I’m right this time All the boring moments glow with rhyme You say “coincidence” I say “design” (oh, I’m fine, I’m fine) Marching in the pareidolia parade Spotting hidden patterns in the shade You call it overthinking I call it fate I’m crazy But I’m right Just late [Bridge] [Tempo slows Harp and cello only] Sesquipedalian incantation Hyperspecific revelation You call it jargon I call it jazz A lexicon in a tinfoil hat [Drums race in Full band hits] See the gears grind under small talk? Hear the subtext tapping code? (hey!) Every “whatever” hides a weather warning Every shrug’s a signal overload [Chorus] I’m crazy but I’m right this time All your normal nights align You say “accident” I say “design” (oh, I’m fine, I’m fine) Marching in the pareidolia parade Dancing with the patterns that we made You call it overthinking I call it fate I’m crazy But I’m right— (yeah, I’m crazy but I’m right)

pop, Playful art-pop with male vocals over a theatrical chamber ensemble: pizzicato cello, fluttering flute and clarinet, bright xylophone accents. Verses sit in a half-time, off-kilter groove with harp arpeggios and sparse piano; choruses double-time into a whirlwind of drums and bagpipes surging underneath. Dynamic push-pull between whispered, conspiratorial delivery and bold, belted hooks; arrangement leans into sudden stops, swells, and stacked gang vocals on the title line., cello, harp, clarinet, male vocals, slow

Pareidolia Parade