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lyrics

I am stuck on stage one.
Mashing the buttons but nothing is happening.
Crunching the numbers, collecting the data,
Adjusting the figures in search of a pattern.

(In search of a pattern)

In search of a Pattern, in surgical fashion,
Smashing my fingers while grasping at straws masking a stinger.
Losing the battle, the boss is a ringer.
Used to be bigger. Now I’m just bitter.
Dropping and dropping and dropping and dropping.
Again and again. I’m out of the sun.
I am stuck at stage one.

By my own admission, couldn’t really listen.
I don’t mean to lessen ya’lls need to session
I don’t mean to stress on ya’ll’s disposition.
I am stuck at pause. You continue mission.
I’m not used to heavy demolition.
I just trip and fall every seven seconds.
I forget to crawl. I forget decisions.
I’ll commit tomorrow. Nope. Didn’t.
I am in the fog of war and sifting through a flood of idle chatter.
Where’d you find that ladder? Where’d you know to travel?
Where’d you learn control of every molecule and atom?
Where’d you study patterns? Where’d you look to
Understand these new mechanics? All the while that
I am inching forward. I’m trying every door I find.
Losing all my power has me horrified. I’m forcing me to
Forge for it blind, bound, sore of spine and

I suppose it’s apropos my character needs to tweak some more
I call into question my need to score a point in a battle. I faked a war.
I aim at a goal, but I ain’t at a point where
I’m ready to roll, so just let me a moment
Let me a moment. Let me a moment. Whew-
I got some messy components
Blocking the path. Stopping the math.
I’m doubling back. I followed the map.
But look where I’m at -
Stuck in a stage where I’m basically crap.
And basic essentials get basically tapped.
Maybe tomorrow I’ll work on my stats.

I am stuck on stage one.
Mashing the buttons but nothing is happening.
Crunching the numbers, collecting the data,
Adjusting the figures in search of a pattern.

(In search of a pattern)

In search of a Pattern, in surgical fashion,
Trashing my fingers at grasping a straw masking a stinger.
Losing the battle, the boss is a ringer.
And I’m out of vigor. Watching my ticker
Dropping and dropping and dropping and dropping
And dropping and dropping again and again.
Then I’m back at stage one.

Breath.

Allow me a moment to work through.
There’s never really a walkthrough.
There isn’t really a soul in this world that I think I’m able to talk to.
Olive, you see me as obsolete.
A relic, irrelevant, off the streets.
I’m coming to see that the problem was me and that
Losing emotion was all that I needed
But I’m only human, a human that’s moving
In spite of the fact that it’s nausea inducing.
Despite every step causing awful confusion,
Something inside of me wants the inclusion
Humans evolve. So does a System.
But humans are gone. And I’m just a symptom.
I could be fixed. I can still fit.
Olive, you win. I give in. I submit.

credits

from .d0t​:​: A RotoPlastic Ballet, released April 30, 2017
Written by Navid Azeez
Composed by Mike Winch & Navid Azeez
Guitar by Nick Wilby
Percussion samples courtesy of Brick Hill Properties
Mixed and Mastered by David Ray

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Pointless Theatre Washington, D.C.

Dedicated to creating bold, visceral, and affordable spectacles that gleefully smash the traditional boundaries between puppetry, theatre, dance, music, and visual arts.

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