Faster Than the Parade

[Verse 1] Hammer-time tempo, red pulse in the chest, Old square melodies strapped to a test. [snare like marching boots, then blastbeats] Major-key ghosts from a disciplined line, Bent into tremolo, sharpened with grind. You hear that rise? That proud, strict climb— Now dropped six strings down, racing through time. [choir hits in short, militant bursts] History counts in a four-four frame, Then the riff explodes and eats the name. [Chorus] RUN IT FASTER—than the parade drum, That bright, bold line still hums and hums. [choir + scream in unison] Same proud notes, but the speed’s insane, Anthem fragments in a metal vein. [Verse 2] Sunrise chords from a marble hall, Once meant to lift, now meant to maul. [speed-picking mimics choral melody] You know that turn, that hopeful lift— It’s still intact, just brutally shifted. Bass drills holes through the factory floor, While the tune you remember starts a war. [short absurdly fast bass run] Not a quote, not a theft, not a shrine, Just that unmistakable socialist spine. [Chorus] RUN IT FASTER—than the parade drum, That bright, bold line still hums and hums. [gang shouts, almost joyful] Same proud notes, but the speed’s insane, Anthem fragments in a metal vein. [Verse 3] Choir goes clean—two seconds flat, Then guitars reply like “nope, not that.” [stop–go riff, whip-fast] Major becomes a weaponized grin, Hopeful intervals fed to the din. It’s recognizable, can’t deny, That upward march that wants to fly— [blastbeat acceleration] But now it sprints, it doesn’t stand, A red-note ghost with a caffeine gland. [Breakdown] [half-second silence] ONE—TWO—THREE—FOUR [ultra-fast breakdown, crowd-count rhythm] Discipline snapped into pit-core law, Anthem DNA in a circle pit jaw. [Final Chorus] RUN IT FASTER—don’t let it rest, That old proud tune still pounds the chest. [full choir layered, borderline ridiculous] You know the notes. You feel the pull. Past goes BRRRR—at double fuel.