(Sound of a steam wand hissing, transitioning into a harsh industrial screech)

(Cold, rhythmic London accent)

Yeah...

Standard.

Black Rose behind the counter.

Serving up obsession in a cardboard cup.

Watch how she moves.

Leather apron, flannel on the waist

Serving that venom, I can handle the taste

She’s a barista, but she’s brewing a trap

One look in my eyes, now I’m caught in the gap

She’s movin’ devious, steam in the air

Mischievous grin, she knows that I stare

Flaunting the form, yeah, she’s doing it proper

A public display, and nobody can stop her.

(Drums start thumping like a racing heartbeat)

She pours the milk like she’s casting a spell

A touch of the hand, and I’m under the shell

She’s baiting the romance, she’s hunting the heart

This ain’t just coffee, it’s weaponized art!

DRINK IT DOWN!

(Explosive speed, blast beats, dissonant guitars)

BLACK ROSE! (The potion’s in my blood)

BLACK ROSE! (Drag me through the mud)

She’s a riot in the shop, a fever in the brain

The caffeine and the chaos, I’m loving the pain!

(Half-time beat, heavy sliding bass)

(Spoken)

Every cup’s a ritual.

She’s writing my name on the side like a curse.

Checking the fit, showing the skin...

She knows I’m addicted.

She knows she’s winning.

MY HEART IS RACING!

Nubile and dangerous, grinding the beans

She’s the only vision in my fever dreams

Public flirting, yeah, she’s making a scene

The baddest barista that I’ve ever seen

She’s brewing the madness, she’s stoking the fire

A black rose blooming in the wires of desire!

(High-speed Grindcore finish suddenly cuts to a low bass hum)

(Spoken)

Same time tomorrow?

Devious.

Black Rose.