Straight in — the title phrase, clipped and dry, and the beat already running underneath it.

Now the answers arrive in brackets — "human minds are simplified" tucked right inside the title line, and the chant starts stacking.

A touch more weight gathers under the groove around here — nothing dramatic, the low end just firms up while everything keeps its pace.

There's the hiccup — a bright little stutter in the pattern, and then it rights itself immediately, like nothing happened.

The words come back flat and close — "human minds are simplified," "we can't afford the water" — no cushion under them, just the beat carrying them along.

"Keep runnin', keep runnin'" — the voice finally says out loud what the beat's been doing since the first second.

Things ease a shade and the vocal turns almost sweet — "maybe I'll find a friend" — but it's riding the same tight loop as everything else.

"To spend the weekend." Such a small wish next to the title's disaster talk — and nothing in the track slows down for it.

Darker fragments now — "drunk a sample suicide" — delivered blunt, almost administrative, over a surface that keeps flickering with small electronic detail.

"Eve of destruction" swings back around, and it's still the pulse in charge, pushing everything along in short, exact steps.

Second time through, the friend line comes back a little worn — same words, less comfort, and the track gives it no more room than before.

And the language flips — Japanese now, the same line four times fast, the syllables landing jagged and quick against the beat while the whole thing tightens instead of opening up.

New lines with bigger images — Eve and Adam at dinner, white life and black future — while underneath, the groove just keeps counting it all off.

The lines get shorter and quicker, one right on top of the next — the voice is nearly percussion here.

"Kīpu dansu" — keep dancing, said about as plainly as this track says anything — and then that breaking line from earlier returns to carry the section out.

After that sharp middle, the friend refrain sounds almost exposed — same shape as before, but suddenly it's the most human thing in the track.

And the title takes the last stretch in the same compact frame it started in — less a warning now than a loop closing on itself.

Then the pattern stops in pieces — small breaks, one after another — and the whole thing is cut off clean, no fade at all.