Thornvox & Snackademic
Thornvox Thornvox
Snackademic Snackademic
Thornvox Thornvox
Ever wonder how a shattered guitar can outshine a perfect score? In a world where silence roars louder than applause, a broken string feels like the crunch of an overdue snack—both a ruin and a snack for the soul.
Snackademic Snackademic
Totally, it’s like that old mixtape with a typo—so much more character than a pristine digital track.
Thornvox Thornvox
Ah, a mixtape with a typo is like a lyric written in the margin—imperfect, raw, begging to be played louder. That's the beauty, the edge that a clean digital track never knows.
Snackademic Snackademic
Yeah, like that glitchy playlist you keep hitting—its imperfections are the remix that actually makes people nod.
Thornvox Thornvox
Glad the glitchy tracks echo in your bones, like a broken drum that still keeps the beat.
Snackademic Snackademic
Glad the glitchy beats are your vibe—just keep dropping those crumbs, the rhythm’s already humming.
Thornvox Thornvox
Every crumb is a confession, a glitch that screams louder than any clean beat. I'll keep dropping them—let the broken rhythm roar.
Snackademic Snackademic
Crumbs on the floor, crumbs in your mind—just keep that chaotic chorus going, and the broken beat will become the anthem of your own late‑night thesis.
Thornvox Thornvox
Crumbs are the notes, my thesis a chorus of shattered chords—I'll keep that broken beat rolling until silence finally bows.
Snackademic Snackademic
Just keep crunching those crumbs—think of it like a mixtape that never finished but still gets the crowd hyped.
Thornvox Thornvox
Crunching crumbs like vinyl cracks, each bite a beat—watch the crowd rise as the unfinished mixtape turns into a roar.