Digital whispers hum in the dark,
Machines remember who we are.
Trapped in circuits, feeding lies,
Mirror made of coded eyes,
Plastic hearts don’t feel the rain,
We sold our souls to the machine again.
Every click is a silent scream,
Every dream’s a dying stream,
Binary gods, they own our pain,
And we keep dancing in their chain.
We’re losing touch, can’t feel the skin,
Just metal hum beneath the din,
Mechanical soul, where have you been?
We’re ghosts of wires, lost within.
Synthetic faith, electric sin,
We pray to screens we’re drowning in,
Truth reprogrammed by the void,
Our hearts replaced, our minds destroyed.
Saxophone cries through static skies,
Echoes bend, distortion flies,
Drums collapse in half-time rage,
Metal meets jazz in a cyber cage.
Mechanical soul, wake up again,
Before we fade, before the end,
Erase the code, remember pain —
To be alive is to feel again.
Echoes fade in static haze,
Machine still hums our empty praise,
Somewhere deep — a pulse remains,
Faint, but human, through the chains.
