Petrified With Likes
A dreamlike fusion of psychedelic chamber rock and art jazz pop, opening with lush strings, tremolo guitar, ethereal synth layers, and intricate percussion. Progressively evolving grooves weave hypnotic motifs, experimental electronic textures, and subtle woodwinds, crafting a hypnotic, ever-shifting soundscape.
Petrified With Likes
A dreamlike fusion of psychedelic chamber rock and art jazz pop, opening with lush strings, tremolo guitar, ethereal synth layers, and intricate percussion. Progressively evolving grooves weave hypnotic motifs, experimental electronic textures, and subtle woodwinds, crafting a hypnotic, ever-shifting soundscape.
Lyrics
When the earth decides to still its tides, we breathe like fossils in the making, unafraid.
Layers of likes like silt on light, slow-falling stars that never fade.
Pin the sky with a thousand tiny hearts, let the currents freeze mid-scroll, mid-sway.
Stone remembers what the pulse forgets, we’re drifting into ambered day.
If the clocks turn salt and sleep runs deep, we’ll shed our names like coastal clay.
Let the comment rain turn to quiet grain, settle soft where our bodies lay.
Petrified with likes, we lie and let it rise, layer after layer like a code in the night.
Bury us in light, in echoes pixel-white, we’ll sleep through the centuries, out of sight.
When we wake again, dust upon our skin, read the relics of our longing, line by line.
Petrified with likes, the quiet crystallized—turn the feed to stone and call it time.
(oh, let it settle)
Archive our heat beneath the reef, where carbon sleeps and data prays.
We’re gentle bones in future tones, cataloged in amber glaze.
Let the algorithms fossilize our waves, our little sparks of praise.
Let the comment rain turn to quiet grain, settle soft where our bodies lay.
Petrified with likes, we lie and let it rise, layer after layer like a code in the night.
Bury us in light, in echoes pixel-white, we’ll sleep through the centuries, out of sight.
When we wake again, dust upon our skin, read the relics of our longing, line by line.
Petrified with likes, the quiet crystallized—turn the feed to stone and call it time.
We wanted the world to stop—not end—just hold, like breath under glass.
Let the layers keep falling, kind as snow, until names fall off like ash.
Then, after thousands of years of sleep so deep the sea forgets,
We rise, brush off the dust, and watch our little signals bloom into artifacts.
Petrified with likes, we lie and let it rise, layer after layer like a code in the night.
Bury us in light, in echoes pixel-white, we’ll sleep through the centuries, out of sight.
When we wake again, dust upon our skin, read the relics of our longing, line by line.
Petrified with likes, the quiet crystallized—turn the feed to stone and call it time.
Just look at what we made when we stopped and stayed.