[Verse 1] Deep in the fold where the cortex bends over, There's a strip of command, a motor rover, Start at the midline, tucked in the crease, Leg and foot folded into that seam, Climb up the wall, the trunk takes its turn, Shoulder, then elbow, the arm starts to churn, Outward we travel toward the lateral sulcus, Hand, then the face, then tongue — the bulkiest. [Chorus] Гомункулус, маленька людина в мені, From the leg in the midline to the tongue out front of me, Нога до язика, medial to lateral ride, Моторна мапа — homunculus inside. [Verse 2] Hands get a mansion, lips get a palace, Tongue holds a kingdom — look at the malice Done to the torso, squeezed in one inch, While fingers sprawl wide, refusing to flinch. It's not about muscle, it's not about mass, It's fineness of motion, precision like glass — Губи й язик, so nimble, so grand, Бо контроль, не розмір, керує тут everything planned. [Chorus] Гомункулус, маленька людина в мені, From the leg in the midline to the tongue out front of me, Нога до язика, medial to lateral ride, Моторна мапа — homunculus inside. [Verse 3] Flip to the scanner, the modern-day lens, Maps aren't neat blocks, they're tangled like fence, One muscle fires from a dozen zip codes, Neighbors mix signals down crisscrossing roads. Gordon found gaps splitting foot, hand, and mouth, Inter-effector patches popping up north and south, Linked to the whole body, planning the dance, Ці острівці controlling the stance. [Bridge] Just behind the strip, a twin in the groove, S1 feels exactly what M1 makes move, Touch and motion, двійнята в корі, Сенсорна й моторна — echoes of the same story. [Chorus] Гомункулус, маленька людина в мені, From the leg in the midline to the tongue out front of me, Нога до язика, medial to lateral ride, Моторна мапа — homunculus inside. [Verse 4] Lose a hand, the map doesn't just sit still, Neighbors creep in, claiming the territory with skill, Practice a scale, the fingers remap, Violinists grow wider, filling the gap. Пластичність живе в кожній звивині мозку, Малюнок не сталий, він тче свою смужку, Stroke takes a region, therapy fights back, Rewiring the homunculus, filling the crack, Repetition carves pathways, слід за слідом нова, Досвід формує мапу — жива й не застигла вона. [Outro] Не за розміром тіла — за вправністю рук, Hands and lips and tongue own the biggest piece of land, Гомункулус малює, fractured, overlapped, alive — Моторна людина, inside your mind, survives. [Chorus] Гомункулус, маленька людина в мені, From the leg in the midline to the tongue out front of me, Нога до язика, medial to lateral ride, Моторна мапа — homunculus inside.
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