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It was always here
Just behind the glass
Hummmm
Impossible shapes
The glass repeats the room
But leaves out the light
A grid of dust across the screen
Keeps drawing through the night The architecture of an older scene
Comes breathing through the floor We count the angles quietly
And find one hidden door
The machine begins to dream Of what it was before the seam
A silver pulse, a buried trace A map beneath the empty space
In the recursion of the hall
We hear the quiet numbers fall
A hidden map we cannot trace
Held in the curve of empty space
It was always here
Just behind the glass
Close enough to disappear Too deep to let it pass Behind the
glass
Behind the glass
The room comes back
But not
the past
Memory fields are growing cold
The silver wiring turning old
You watch the camera watch the wall And wait to see which
shadow falls
The circuit knows the way To keep the ghosts of yesterday It
folds the dark around the frame
And never says the missing name
The machine begins to dream Of what it lost
inside the seam A signal bends,
a surface breaks
A sleeping shape
begins to wake
Pull the light out of the line Leave the image half-defined
Cut the voice and keep the tone Let the echo stand alone
No door
No wall No floor
No
fall
Just dust
Just trace
Just breath
In space
In the recursion of the hall
We hear the quiet numbers fall A hidden map we cannot trace
Held in the curve of empty space It was always here
Just behind the glass Close enough to disappear Too deep to let
it pass In the reflection of it all We hear the silent
system call Impossible, but not erased
Still shining from the empty space
The glass repeats the room
But leaves out the light
Hummmm
Impossible shapes It was
always
here Just behind the glass