Calendar Wolf: Urban Dictionary AUTOTUNE Generative Audio

Поділитися
Вставка
  • Опубліковано 2 тра 2024
  • Experience the haunting melody of "Calendar Wolf," a song generated by A.I. This indie pop/rock anthem reveals the life of a wolf raised for calendar shoots, exploring themes of freedom and identity. Perfectly blending electric guitars and atmospheric synths, it challenges the boundaries between the captive and the wild.

КОМЕНТАРІ • 1

  • @PondersTech
    @PondersTech 18 днів тому

    LYRICS:
    Verse 1
    In the shadow of the timbers, he's a star in the light,
    A glossy coat, a staged pose, under the studio bright.
    From a bowl with his name, in scripted gold,
    Dines on chosen cuts, far from the wild tales told.
    Pre-Chorus
    Not in the chase, not in the howl,
    Silent paws on a manicured prowl.
    Chorus
    Calendar Wolf, with your eyes so bold,
    Calendar Wolf, in the frames you’re sold.
    Not a scar from the wild, nor a story untold,
    Just a perfect shot, in the cold.
    Verse 2
    In the whispers of the woods, does the truth ever hide?
    A predator's heart, with a touch of pride.
    But in the gleam of your gaze, what stories are lost?
    For a life in captions, what is the cost?
    Pre-Chorus
    Do you dream of the moon, do you yearn for the chase?
    Or is comfort found, in this human-made space?
    Chorus
    Calendar Wolf, with your eyes so bold,
    Calendar Wolf, in the frames you’re sold.
    Not a scar from the wild, nor a story untold,
    Just a perfect shot, in the cold.
    Bridge
    Oh, mighty creature, what mask do you wear?
    A spirit caught in gloss, a superficial lair.
    Might the forest call you, to break from your frame,
    To run through the wild, to live up to your name?
    Chorus
    Calendar Wolf, with your eyes so bold,
    Calendar Wolf, in the frames you’re sold.
    Not a scar from the wild, nor a story untold,
    Just a perfect shot, in the cold.
    Outro
    Behind the glam and the flash, lies a tale so untold,
    Of a wolf turned to art, in the cold, cold world's hold.