Vocaloid Kikuo May 2026

La-la-la, lick the knife. Daddy’s home with a brand-new wife. She wears a dress made of Sunday clocks. And the candy just ate my tick-tocks. (Eat them up, eat them up, tick-tocks stop.)

Dolls in a row With their button eyes sewn— They whisper, “Come play where the daylight won’t go.” A merry-go-round with no horse and no crown. Just a needle that sews all the children facedown. vocaloid kikuo

One, two, three — the oven is cold. Four, five, six — my fingers are sold. Seven, eight, nine — the doctor is blind. Ten, eleven, twelve — “You’re doing just fine.” La-la-la, lick the knife

Tick… tock… I forgot what I forgot. Tick… stop. And the candy just ate my tick-tocks

(Spoken, whispered, doubled) “Why is the moon bleeding?” “Shh. That’s just jam.” “Where is my shadow?” “It ran… it ran… it ran…”

(Tempo: 160 BPM — frantic, like a music box winding down too fast)