Does It Break? 由 Let's Trip 於 2026年5月27日發行，收錄於專輯《Boundary Passage: A Way Home》中
BPM128
旋律
歌曲有多麼清晰易記且符合明確音樂模式的旋律。通常，旋律分明的作品會擁有清晰易記的器樂或人聲主線。
原聲音質
此指標衡量一首歌曲在多大程度上依賴原聲樂器 (例如鋼琴、吉他、小提琴、鼓、薩克斯風)，而非電子或數位合成音效
Valence
歌曲透過和聲與節奏所傳達的音樂積極性或情感基調。數值高通常對應快樂、興奮或愉悅感，數值低則與悲傷、憤怒或憂鬱相關。
節奏感
綜合了節拍穩定性、節奏型態與重拍強度等多重因素，以判定一首歌曲適合跳舞的程度。一首「節奏感強」的歌曲，通常具備穩定的速度、重複的音樂結構與明顯的強拍。
輕快
曲目的律動感可能受節奏快慢、音量起伏與聲譜密度所影響。較輕快的歌曲通常節奏強勁，編曲豐滿；反之，不太輕快的歌曲則可能編曲簡約、節奏較慢。
歌詞
Shadows look longer when it rains
Demons get taller every day
My heart goes tick tick tick tick
I'm coming home again tonight
Does it break
Does it break
Does it break
Does it break I may well just find out
I'm no longer on my side
Tell them run along before a fire
Loathing left on me like a stain
Patience like practice chips away
My heart goes tick tick tick tick
I'm coming home again tonight
Does it break
Does it break
Does it break
Does it break I may well just find out
I'm no longer on my side
Tell the father to stay outside
Waiting for the world to start a fight
They don't know a thing bout what it's like
My heart aches, and a drowsy numbness pains
My sense, as though of hemlock I had drunk
Or emptied some dull opiate to the drains
One minute past, and Lethe-wards had sunk
'Tis not through envy of thy happy lot
But being too happy in thine happiness
That thou, light-winged Dryad of the trees
In some melodious plot
Of beechen green, and shadows numberless
Singest of summer in full-throated ease
O, for a draught of vintage! that hath been
Cool'd a long age in the deep-delved earth
Tasting of Flora and the country green
Dance, and Provençal song, and sunburnt mirth
O for a beaker full of the warm South
Full of the true, the blushful Hippocrene
With beaded bubbles winking at the brim
And purple-stained mouth
That I might drink, and leave the world unseen
And with thee fade away into the forest dim
Fade far away, dissolve, and quite forget
What thou among the leaves hast never known
The weariness, the fever, and the fret
Here, where men sit and hear each other groan
Where palsy shakes a few, sad, last gray hairs
Where youth grows pale, and spectre-thin, and dies
Where but to think is to be full of sorrow
And leaden-eyed despairs
Where Beauty cannot keep her lustrous eyes
Or new Love pine at them beyond to-morrow
Away! away! for I will fly to thee
Not charioted by Bacchus and his pards
But on the viewless wings of Poesy
Though the dull brain perplexes and retards
Already with thee! tender is the night
And haply the Queen-Moon is on her throne
Cluster'd around by all her starry Fays
But here there is no light
Save what from heaven is with the breezes blown
Through verdurous glooms and winding mossy ways
I cannot see what flowers are at my feet
Nor what soft incense hangs upon the boughs
But, in embalmed darkness, guess each sweet
Wherewith the seasonable month endows
The grass, the thicket, and the fruit-tree wild
White hawthorn, and the pastoral eglantine
Fast fading violets cover'd up in leaves
And mid-May's eldest child
The coming musk-rose, full of dewy wine
The murmurous haunt of flies on summer eves
Darkling I listen; and, for many a time
I have been half in love with easeful Death
Call'd him soft names in many a mused rhyme
To take into the air my quiet breath
Now more than ever seems it rich to die
To cease upon the midnight with no pain
While thou art pouring forth thy soul abroad
In such an ecstasy
Still wouldst thou sing, and I have ears in vain—
To thy high requiem become a sod
Thou wast not born for death, immortal Bird
No hungry generations tread thee down
The voice I hear this passing night was heard
In ancient days by emperor and clown
Perhaps the self-same song that found a path
Through the sad heart of Ruth, when, sick for home
She stood in tears amid the alien corn
The same that oft-times hath
Charm'd magic casements, opening on the foam
Of perilous seas, in faery lands forlorn
Forlorn! the very word is like a bell
To toll me back from thee to my sole self
Adieu! the fancy cannot cheat so well
As she is fam'd to do, deceiving elf
Adieu! adieu! thy plaintive anthem fades
Past the near meadows, over the still stream
Up the hill-side; and now 'tis buried deep
In the next valley-glades
Was it a vision, or a waking dream?
Fled is that music:—Do I wake or sleep?
Written by: Jacob Krismer, Reece Overbury
