[Verse 1] Talk of neurons: fire or don't, just binary and plain, But under every spike there's a quieter refrain. Norepinephrine, dopamine, serotonin too, They don't flip the switch, they bend what the switch will do. Not excite, not inhibit — they tune the whole machine, Turning up the gain on what the circuit's ever seen. [Chorus] I'm the dimmer, not the lightbulb, the hand upon the knob, I widen every doorway, I don't do the switch's job. Same old wires, brand new weather, same neurons, different mood, Neuromodulators whisper till the whole thing's rearranged and renewed. [Verse 2] Inside small dense-core vesicles, peptides wait and hide, Only strong and rapid signals — a sprinter's pace, not a stride — Can release them out to scatter: a message sharp and keen, Endorphins calm the body when it's tired and worn and lean. Oxytocin builds the bonds of trust when a friendship starts, Vasopressin guards the balance, neuropeptide Y restarts The hunger in your belly when the fuel gauge drops too low. [Chorus] I'm the dimmer, not the lightbulb, the hand upon the knob, I widen every doorway, I don't do the switch's job. Same old wires, brand new weather, same neurons, different mood, Neuromodulators whisper till the whole thing's rearranged and renewed. [Verse 3] Small blue dot inside the brainstem, locus coeruleus by name, Floods the cortex wide awake with norepinephrine's flame. Raphe nuclei breathe serotonin out to every shore, Calm the waters, guard your mood behind a quiet velvet door. Deep in the midbrain, VTA, the dopamine machine, Light the drive to learn and reach for goals you haven't seen. [Verse 4] Eve Marder watched a small sea creature, a knot of thirty cells, The stomatogastric ganglion ringing silent bells. One fixed wiring, polymorphic — a word for shapeshifting grace — Modulators washed it clean and gave the mill a different face: Slow chew, fast chew, different rhythms from the same old frame, Pattern generators never fired the same way twice, yet stayed the same. [Bridge] Sleep or waking, calm or panic, same old nervous architecture, It's the chemical weather pouring through the fixture. No new wires needed, just a different tide, The dial turns, the whole self reorganizes, nothing hides. [Outro] Not the switch, not the signal — the hand that sets the scene, Neuromodulators coloring the space between. Same old neurons, same old axons, same old river bed, Just a different chemical sky pouring overhead. [Chorus] I'm the dimmer, not the lightbulb, the hand upon the knob, I widen every doorway, I don't do the switch's job. Same old wires, brand new weather, same neurons, different mood, Neuromodulators whisper till the whole thing's rearranged and renewed.
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