Imagine parking a shiny, rocket-powered ride in front of your old school and getting one shot to fix every cringe moment from the past. That is the fantasy pulsing through Tijdmachine. Dio rattles off all the things he would redo: show up on time, study harder, keep his mom smiling, and hold on tight to the girl who slipped away. He stacks his regrets like dominoes—suspensions, stress, break-ups—then hits the chorus where reality bites: there is no time machine, so the only option is to behave today while “saving up” for an impossible trip.
Enter Sef, the mischievous co-pilot who flips the whole idea on its head. Instead of polishing his past, he admits he would crank up the chaos even more because that raw energy made him who he is. Their back-and-forth turns the track into a playful clash between regret and self-acceptance, wrapped in a hook you cannot shake. Tijdmachine is a feel-good reminder that the past is locked in place, but the present is yours to remix.