Verse 1:

In the heart of L.A., where the underground hums,

Marc threw cyber parties with bass and drums.

Wires tangled like veins in electric sprawl,

Where art met code and the walls would fall.

Digital prophets danced under pixel-lit skies,

Screens flickered like windows to widening eyes.

He turned chaos to rhythm, with signals so clear —

And that’s when he met Timothy Leary near.

Chorus:

Marc, you stitched the world with a storyteller’s hand,

Weaving voices together like a rock ‘n’ roll band.

From cyber streets to Leary’s wild dreams,

You turned fleeting moments into lasting streams.

Verse 2:

Leary laughed like thunder, a sage with a spark,

He saw in Marc’s vision a fire in the dark.

“Turn on, tune in,” Tim whispered with pride,

“You’re riding the wave — don’t let it subside.”

So Marc wired the web like veins of the mind,

Broadcasting raw moments, uncut and unrefined.

Parties turned portals, where minds could expand,

As stories unfolded at the touch of his hand.

Chorus:

Marc, you stitched the world with a storyteller’s hand,

Weaving voices together like a rock ‘n’ roll band.

From cyber streets to Leary’s wild dreams,

You turned fleeting moments into lasting streams.

Bridge:

No longer just music, no longer just art,

Marc mixed human connection into each moving part.

Fans became actors, the screen became real —

You gave life to the world with an electric zeal.

Final Chorus:

Marc, you stitched the world with a storyteller’s hand,

Weaving voices together like a rock ‘n’ roll band.

From cyber streets to Leary’s wild dreams,

You turned fleeting moments into lasting streams.

Outro:

So here’s to the maker who broke through the noise,

A dreamer, a hacker — still building with poise.

Marc Scarpa, the signal that won’t disappear,

A storyteller’s voice that rings loud and clear.