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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