Writable

Verse 1

There’s a baseline hum in the noise floor tonight
A perfectly quiet, invisible light
I thought the antenna was pointed away
But somebody’s listening to what I don’t say
I made the decision, I touched on the screen
I routed the unit to somewhere unseen
But the wanting arrived without making a sound
A finished conclusion I suddenly found

Pre-Chorus

Where does it come from? Where does it start?
Who is the author that’s playing my part?
It feels like a choice, it feels like my own
But the seed in the soil was quietly sown.

Chorus

We are writable now, the architecture is laid
A choice isn't yours if the choice has been played
No wires, no whispers, no voice in the head
Just a ghost in the relay rewriting the thread
Trace the provenance back, tell me what you can find
When the final frontier is the lock on your mind.

Verse 2

They say it’s just passive, they say they just read
A phase in the spectrum, a map of the need
But observation is never a one-way street
When you map out the rhythm, you alter the beat
It happens today in the scroll and the feed
A million small nudges to plant the new seed
We think we're the drivers, we think we're awake
But they’re building the road every step that we take.

Pre-Chorus

Where does it come from? Where does it start?
Who is the author that’s playing my part?
It feels like a choice, it feels like my own
But the seed in the soil was quietly sown.

Chorus

Bridge

Just a content-free handshake.
Just a knock on the door.
But the moment it opens, you're you anymore?
The data is structured, the address is clear.
The illusion of freedom is what keeps us here.

Outro

Who made the decision?
Who routed the call?
If you can't see the origin, you take the fall.
We are writable.
Check the source.
Check the source.

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