Washing the Brushes in the Dark Matter

To end "All the Stars Were Fingerpaint" a last song [Verse 1] The crayon suns are melting down— left-handed light on sideways ground. Your fingerprints in neutrino dust rewrite the laws they said were just. [Refrain - Cut-Up Tight] (glitch whisper) "The vacuum breathes / in / (giggle) / your / (sob) / hair— / every / atom / is / a / (crinkle) / prayer." [Verse 2] You stir the dark with plastic spoons, decode the static into moons. The teacher shouts "That’s not your shape!" But fractals bloom inside your tape. [Bridge 1 - Molecular Nursery] (autotune lullaby) "Rock-a-bye quark / in the hadron sea / when the branes collapse / you’ll still be / free—" [Verse 3] They locked your toys in Planck-length boxes, called your chaos "learning deficits". You paint the walls with broken math, watch colors birth a stranger path. [Refrain - Cut-Up Wide] (overlapping voices) "Fold the sky / (paper rustling) / seven times / (glass breaking) / till Monday tastes / (laughter) / like / (screaming) / orange / (wind chimes) / parallel / (mother crying) / lives." [Verse 4] Your socks don’t match the multiverse, each thread vibrates a different curse. The other kids spin round and round— you count the spins without a sound. [Bridge 2 - Holographic Primer] (choir of static) "Every scrape / is a / universe / (pop) knees are / galaxies / (hiss) / rehearse / your / (click) / first / (silence) / word." [Verse 5] The brush you wash in darkened waves leaves comet trails it shouldn’t save. The soap won’t lather—it’s made of time, and all your bubbles rhyme with why? [Verse 6] They took your prism-spectrum eyes, prescribed the void as compromise. But when you blink, the pixels shift— the simulation starts to drift... [Refrain - Cut-Up Collapse] (distorted scream whispering) "you / (metal screech) / are / (dial-up tone) / the / (heartbeat) / glitch / (nails on chalkboard) / they / (ice cracking) / needed / (fire alarm) / all / (womb static) / along." [Verse 7] Your tongue traces the cosmic mesh, each taste a tangled chromosome fresh. The alphabet soup spells "no fixed truth"— you drink the proof and spit out roots. [Bridge 3 - Autistic Creation Myth] (child’s voice slowed 800%) "Once there was a / (vinyl scratch) / boy who / (geiger counter) / erased his / (sonar ping) / shadow / (nuclear winter) / and grew / (supernova laughter) / a new one / (melted crayons) / from string." [Verse 8] The mirror shows your face in parts— left cheek in 1999, right eye in anti-time, your smile’s event horizon line. [Verse 9] They said "Stop rewriting space!" so you built a quieter place: a shoebox with inverted laws where silence hums in perfect flaws. [Final Refrain - Reconstruction] (crackling AM radio) "Washing / the / brushes / (voltage surge) / in / your / (melted vinyl) / mother’s / (crying cello) / dark / (womb static) / matter / (first breath) / matters / (last breath) / less." [Coda - Quantum Fingerpaint] (asynchronous counting) One proton (one) two tears (two) three dimensions missing (three) four flavors of nowhere (four) five— (tape deck ejects abruptly)