Neuroadaptation

Описание: Neuroadaptation is the curse,
Neuroadaptation is the key.

Lyrics

Chorus
We entertain ourselves to death, call it self-care,
Infinite choice, still bored of the air.
Higher dose, same buzz, nothing there,
Neuroadaptation — curse and the prayer.

Swipe for the hit, smoke for the calm,
Pleasure and pain doing laps on the arm.
Too much of everything, none of it lands,
Balance is lost in the palm of the hand.

Verse 1
Trout in the current, balance in play,
Nature keeps score but it don’t explain.
Numbers go up, but the feeling decays,
Full fridge, empty chest, every day the same.

Luxury stress, first-world fatigue,
Too many options, none of them please.
Brain on a treadmill, dopamine lease,
Rent due daily, no option to leave.

Scrolling like it’s research, calling it “rest,”
Mind overfed, still malnourished at best.
Pleasure ain’t pleasure when it’s constant and cheap,
Like sugar in water—you can’t tell when it’s sweet.

Chorus
We entertain ourselves to death, call it self-care,
Infinite choice, still bored of the air.
Higher dose, same buzz, nothing there,
Neuroadaptation — curse and the prayer.

Swipe for the hit, smoke for the calm,
Pleasure and pain doing laps on the arm.
Too much of everything, none of it lands,
Balance is lost in the palm of the hand.

Verse 2
Doctor said “balance,” I said “define.”
He said “less screen time,” I said “fine” — lied.
Brain wants fireworks, life’s more like rain,
Same joke twice, still laughing through pain.

Chemical romance, serotonin fling,
Short-term highs, long-term nothing.
Comfort on tap, discomfort extinct,
Now silence feels louder than anything.

We don’t chase joy, we chase relief,
Trying to numb out the baseline grief.
Hedonic treadmill, sponsored by ease,
Running in circles, blistered beliefs.

Bridge
Neuroadaptation is the curse,
Neuroadaptation is the key.
Same mechanism breaks the thirst,
Same one teaches sensitivity.

Final Chorus
We entertain ourselves to death, politely amused,
Everything instant, nothing to lose.
Higher dose, same buzz, same excuse,
When too much pleasure makes pain diffuse.

Balance ain’t found in the peak or the pit,
It’s the space between craving and quitting the hit.
Not more, not less—just learning the fit,
Feeling again… yeah, that’s the trick.


Video Info & License

Music & Art: Marvin Lee
Visuals: AI-Assisted Animation (Google Gemini)
Style: Minimalist Cyberpunk

License:
Licensed under CC BY 4.0. You may share or adapt this work for any purpose, even commercially, provided you credit Marvin Lee and link back to this video.

AI Disclosure:
This video contains AI-generated visual content.