0̸0̷:̴0̴0̵ [̵V̴O̷L̸T̴A̴G̶E̵ ̸H̷E̴M̷O̷R̵R̶H̶A̷G̵E̶]̵ X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷X̷ A sterile schoolhouse, Wümme’s gray light, A tape loop screams, then vanishes in night. The speaker cones are coughing blood. A serrated frequency hacks at the air— Z̵A̵P̵. G̶R̶I̷N̷D̷. S̸H̷R̸E̸D̶. It’s the sound of a machine, cold and severe, The sound of yourself, trapped listening here.

[̶M̸O̴T̴O̵R̵I̶K̵ ̶S̶I̴N̵G̸U̸L̵A̶R̷I̸T̵Y̵]̶ ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! ! Then—the KICK. The SNARE. A metronome for a heart made of chrome. THUD. WHACK. THUD. WHACK. The fuzz is no longer a sound; it is a solid wall. DUM-tak-DUM-tak-DUM-tak-DUM-tak. The white lines become a solid sheet of light. W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸W̸ A driving, monotonous, hypnotic drone. The bass creeps in, a tectonic shudder, Without a rudder, without a rudder.

[̷T̶H̵E̴ ̸B̵R̴E̶A̴K̴I̴N̸G̸ ̴P̵O̷I̶N̸T̵]̷ Strange, chirping synth birds, a distant, ironic bleep, A somnambulist, surreal, waking sleep. Under a white, white, white, white, German sky. B̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷R̷ It is 1973. It is 3073. The fuzz is a sun. It is blinding. The gearteeth grind the groove to a halt, A shattered, sudden, brilliant vault.

[̷C̸R̵A̸C̵K̷]̵

The glass gives way. The magnets snap. [ ] It was all a pain, a perfect, sudden end.