The Problem with This Is
[Sparse, melancholic, and atmospheric electronic music with vast, echoing synths and a slow, driving beat. The male vocalist has a world-weary, slightly disconnected, and eventually bewildered and frustrated tone. The song should evoke a sense of cosmic loneliness mixed with mundane, obsessive frustration. Include subtle, alien sound effects and a final, faint click of a remote.]
The Problem with This Is
[Sparse, melancholic, and atmospheric electronic music with vast, echoing synths and a slow, driving beat. The male vocalist has a world-weary, slightly disconnected, and eventually bewildered and frustrated tone. The song should evoke a sense of cosmic loneliness mixed with mundane, obsessive frustration. Include subtle, alien sound effects and a final, faint click of a remote.]
Lyrics
Sparse, ethereal electronic music opens, with vast, echoing synths and a slow, almost melancholic beat. The male vocalist sounds world-weary and a bit disconnected, his voice tinged with a quiet desperation.
(Verse 1) [Vocalist speaks/sings, a low murmur] The twin suns are setting, one violet, one gold, Painting canyons of crystal, a story untold. The air smells like ozone and something like rain, On a planet where loneliness echoes my pain. I'm perched on a ridge-line, a billion light-years from home, Just me and my memories, and this chrome-plated dome. [A sigh escapes him]
(Chorus) [Music swells slightly, still ethereal but with a growing sense of bewildered frustration] Oh, the breath-taking expanse of this alien, blue sky, Makes me wonder, makes me ponder, makes me wanna just cry. But a thought just occurred, and it cut through the haze, "Now where did I put the remote?" through these long, empty days. [A small, electronic 'bleep' sound, like a forgotten device] For the last channel I watched, before she packed her bags, Was "Ancient Aliens," and now my sanity sags.
(Verse 2) [More observational, his voice gaining a slightly unhinged edge] I've seen the great dust worms, that tunnel and glow, The flora that whispers to tides moving slow. I've charted the constellations, unknown and so bright, Tried to name them like constellations, in a desperate, lonely night. Is it under the console, back there by the seat? Or did it fall down the crevice, where the cushions all meet? [Sound of a distant, alien creature call]
(Chorus) [Music builds with more synth layers, a sense of mounting, trivial panic] Oh, the breath-taking expanse of this alien, blue sky, Makes me wonder, makes me ponder, makes me wanna just cry. But a thought just occurred, and it cut through the haze, "Now where did I put the remote?" through these long, empty days. For the last channel I watched, before she packed her bags, Was "Ancient Aliens," and now my sanity sags.
(Bridge) [Music becomes more abstract, almost dissonant, with a repetitive, obsessive electronic hum. Vocalist is speaking more rapidly, searching.] I've scanned every module, the galley, the bunks, The emergency airlock, the spare power trunks. Did it slip from my pocket, when I walked on the moon? Or when I was talking to that three-eyed baboon? The silence is deafening, I need my TV, To numb out the vastness, and what she did to me. [A frustrated grunt]
(Chorus) [Music climaxes with a surge of atmospheric synths and a more pronounced, almost desperate vocal delivery] Oh, the breath-taking expanse of this alien, blue sky, Makes me wonder, makes me ponder, makes me wanna just cry. But a thought just occurred, and it cut through the haze, "Now where did I put the remote?" through these long, empty days. For the last channel I watched, before she packed her bags, Was "Ancient Aliens," and now my sanity sags.
(Outro) [Music fades slowly, returning to the opening sparse, echoing synths. The vocal is a final, defeated whisper.] The remote... it has to be here... somewhere... [A faint, almost imperceptible clicking sound, like a distant remote button being pressed, then silence.]