才能さん^^(Boring music)
Learn best practices for creating your ideal Style with Suno v5 from the official website, blogs (including those overseas), and social media information, Intense J-Electro Rock, 5/4 meter, 175 BPM, energetic but controlled, rounded high notes, no harsh treble, de-essed vocal texture, Punchy synth-bass with tight low-end and controlled saturation, Industrial-style guitar with midrange focus, not sharp, Soft celesta accents placed subtly in the background, Glitch textures minimal and blended smoothly, Frantic piano stabs with controlled transients, Warm top end, balanced upper mids, smooth high frequencies, controlled compression, preserved headroom, no clipping, clean studio mastering, No rap, no spoken parts,Lounge Singer,奇妙な音
才能さん^^(Boring music)
Learn best practices for creating your ideal Style with Suno v5 from the official website, blogs (including those overseas), and social media information, Intense J-Electro Rock, 5/4 meter, 175 BPM, energetic but controlled, rounded high notes, no harsh treble, de-essed vocal texture, Punchy synth-bass with tight low-end and controlled saturation, Industrial-style guitar with midrange focus, not sharp, Soft celesta accents placed subtly in the background, Glitch textures minimal and blended smoothly, Frantic piano stabs with controlled transients, Warm top end, balanced upper mids, smooth high frequencies, controlled compression, preserved headroom, no clipping, clean studio mastering, No rap, no spoken parts,Lounge Singer,奇妙な音
Lyrics
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哺乳瓶の頃から誤謬になってて、
才無しのタトゥー多頭飼い。
「諸刃」の「言葉」じゃ「届か」ない。
ライムで細工の愛撫です。
はっはー^^
捻って練った歌詞すらも、すぐに飽きられ生産のオーバードーズ。
才能のコスプレ、矮小なプレイ。
本物の才のじゃれ合いを見ている。
自称作詞家(笑)の格好悪い詞、要は死屍累々。
眩んでぼやけたランドルト。
同じものしか書けなくなったな。
苦汁をインク代わりに、成果はまだ無反応。
アンタも、思う節があんだろ？
才無しの睨めっこ。
才能さんが得をする。
耳塞いでも名曲がトークスルー。
同じ生活、「８」の横文字。
何も感じぬよう、身をほろぼし。
耳に梵天かと思いきや、洗脳紛いの教典。
昇天。
するまで逃れられず、呆然。
あっけら、あっけら、虫けらなまま。
もう自分に祈るしか、あるまいて。
はっはー^^
自動思考の音符におんぶにだっこの私は何様？
はいはい、ご愁傷様。
そういうこと言う奴がお子様。
ご覧の通り、鳴いた閑古鳥。
よりどりみどりの楽曲、蚤の市。
どのみち、私は「売れない」のみの市。
ノイジー、届かない一番星に。
舌打ちの、メトロノームを。
舌打ちの、メトロノームを。
自称作詞家(笑)の格好悪い詞、要は死屍累々。
未だに背負ったランドセル。
稚拙なものしか書けなくなったな。
苦汁をインク代わりに、成果はまだ無反応。
アンタも、思う節があんだろ？
才無しの睨めっこ。
解無しのフィラメント！
才能さんが得をする。
耳塞いでも名曲が、トークスルー。
同じ生活、「８」の横文字。
何も感じぬよう、身をほろぼし。
耳に梵天かと思いきや、洗脳紛いの教典。
昇天。
するまで逃れられず、呆然。
あっけら、あっけら、虫けらなまま。
もう才能に笑うしか、あるまいて。
はっはー ^^
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From the bottle days I’ve lived in fallacy,
Talentless—tattoos, a herd mentality.
“Double-edged” words still fail to reach you.
A crafted caress in rhyme will have to do.
Ha-ha^^
Even twisted, polished lines get stale—production overdose.
Cosplaying talent, a petty little pose.
I watch the real thing play at being free.
The self-proclaimed lyricist (lol), ugly lines—just heaps of dead.
A blurred and dazzled Landolt ring in my head.
Guess I can only write the same old things.
Bitter draught as ink—no response to show.
You feel it too, don’t you? You know.
A talentless staring match.
Talent always gets the gain.
Even with ears closed, great songs talk through the pain.
Same old life, that sideways “8.”
Numb myself so I won’t feel fate.
Thought it was cotton in my ears—
No, a scripture close to brainwashing appears.
Ascension—
Till then I can’t escape, just stand there, stunned.
Laughing, laughing—still a little bug, undone.
I’ve got no choice but pray to myself.
Ha-ha ^^
Carried by automatic notes—who do I think I am?
Yeah, yeah—my condolences.
Those who say that sound like children.
As you can see, the shop’s gone quiet—no birds sing.
A flea market of songs, pick anything.
Either way, I’m in the “won’t sell” bin.
Noisy—toward a star I’ll never win.
A tongue-click metronome, ticking within.
A tongue-click metronome, ticking within.
The self-proclaimed lyricist (lol), ugly lines—just heaps of dead.
Still hauling that schoolbag on my back instead.
Seems I can only write what’s crude.
Bitter draught as ink—no response to show.
You feel it too, don’t you? You know.
A talentless staring match.
A filament with no solution!
Talent always gets the gain.
Even with ears closed, great songs talk through the pain.
Same old life, that sideways “8.”
Numb myself so I won’t feel fate.
Thought it was cotton in my ears—
No, a scripture close to brainwashing appears.
Ascension—
Till then I can’t escape, just stand there, stunned.
Laughing, laughing—still a little bug, undone.
All I can do is laugh at talent now.
Ha-ha ^^