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Narrative & Festival Context
Festival Program Note
A sunrise roll call for Feltware City. Aria’s version stacks voices like lanterns—every cameo, every side-stage hero, every wild guest slot stitched into one communal hardstyle lift. It’s less about spectacle and more about belonging: a full-crowd chant that turns the entire festival into a living organism shouting “we’ve got” together until the sun shows up to clock in.<br>*We're not actually sure which version will play, but we'll find out!
Lead Puppet Producer
Aria – Aria wrote the first version as a roll call of the whole city—a love letter to every cameo, every strange little guest slot that keeps the festival alive. She wanted it to feel like the crowd itself was doing the counting, like everyone in the room was part of the same stitched-together organism. The “we’ve got” hook was intentional: it wasn’t about spectacle, it was about belonging. When the room hit that final chorus, Aria wasn’t thinking about peak pressure—she was thinking about arms around shoulders.
Track Dedication
Dedicated to the guy at the gas station. . That energy drink he sells me is the reason this project is getting finished. He fuels the guy making the dedications. That means he’s basically Stagehand Zero. No spotlight, all impact.
Lyrics – “Cameo Parade (Alternate Version)”
Official lyrics are provided below for reference.
Attention Feltware City Tonight's schedule includes Special guests Three, two, one We've got We've got, we've got We've got a patriot with a rulebook yelling "proper" over kicks We've got a shrimp in a red suit making heat out of six We've got a lab coat, warnings, "this may tingle," smoke in the air We've got a quiet little meep turned into language on the snare We've got green lights and doubt, a small voice trying to be brave We've got vinyl in the booth, wild hands cutting up the wave We've got a sax in the backroom bending truth through neon haze One note, whole place remembers why it came This one's a cameo, blink and you'll miss it Every voice gets a minute to lift it From the strange to the smooth, from the swing to the scream When the count hits We've got guest pass, lights fast, bass in the bones We've got eight-bar miracles and wild little tones We've got rules and spice and science gone wrong We've got a whole festival shouting "put it in a song" We've got Boo and his cardio jokes on the drop We've got drums that answer back when the MC stops Hands up, cameo, don't blink Feltware's the city and it runs in sync We've got low end in any color, four strings shaking the floor We've got rats in hi-vis turning cleanup into an encore We've got two old punks in the rafters heckling builds like "why?" Then the beat hits right and they hate it but they buy We've got a fuzzy DJ swinging jokes like a cymbal crash We've got a furred hurricane drummer turning animal into flash We've got a dance crew clockwork count so clean it feels unfair We've got a runway runaway, high kicks, high gloss, crowd in the air We've got a chef speaking nonsense like it's perfectly in time And when the night gets heavy We've got a soft reset, slow breath, quiet sigh Even cameos carry the night A quick hand A short song A borrowed light Okay One more Go We've got guest pass, lights fast, bass in the bones We've got swing, scratch, techno, and champagne tones We've got diva steps and drama dense on end veins We've got Feltware cameos, let 'em out the teeth Hands up, cameo, don't stop Feltware City 'til the sun comes up Hands up, cameo, don't stop Feltware City 'til the sun comes up Special guests Cleared for takeoff Back to work