Lyrics
Verse 1 — The Signal
(8 bars)
There’s a twitch beneath the skin,
Before a thought begins.
A spark behind the eyes,
A whisper deep within.
Hunger hums its cue,
Boredom pulls a thread,
The body moves already —
Then the voice inside the head says:
Pre-Chorus 1
(4 bars)
Milliseconds running wild,
Before the thought can claim it’s mine.
Chorus 1 — Backdated Fire
(8 bars)
By the time I say “I chose,” the choice was made before,
Lightning hit the ground while the mind still kept the score.
I’m the echo, not the thunder, the after-image glow,
The late reporter calling plays the body used to know.
Verse 2 — The Announcer
(8 bars)
There’s a talker in the brain,
Calling games it never played.
It strings the scenes together
So the story feels the same.
Believes that if it names it,
It must have made it so —
But the reel’s been spinning long
Before the voice could know.
Pre-Chorus 2
(4 bars)
Like a sportscast in my mind,
Always calling from behind.
Chorus 2 — Fiction We Believe
(8 bars)
Because I said it, I caused it — that’s the oldest lie,
Painting authorship on waves that pass me by.
The play was underway, the body always knew,
And I just draw the highlight reel in retrospective hue.
Bridge — Catch It in Real Time
(8 bars, halftime feel)
See the hand reach first, before the plan appears,
Hear the thought say “stand” as the body volunteers.
Catch the lag — the narrator’s spin,
Watch the world move on before “I” comes in.
Chorus 3 — I Am Always Wrong
(8 bars, softer dynamic)
I’m not guilty, not mistaken, just late to the song,
The “I” that claims the music’s been out of tune too long.
It’s humble recognition — a bow to what is strong,
The bright announcer whispering, “I am always wrong.”
Verse 3 — After the Demotion
(8 bars)
Now the doer’s gone to quiet,
But the doing carries through.
Speech falls like weather,
Movement breathes anew.
The river runs decisions,
No paddler in control —
Just language making ripples
On the current of the whole.
Final Chorus — Life Without the Author
(8 bars, full lift)
There’s movement, then there’s meaning — nothing in between,
Action births narration like mist above a stream.
Still I eat, I write, I rest — the living carries on,
But the chooser’s just a phantom the current dreams upon.
Outro — The Quiet Realization
(8 bars, fade out)
Let the story lag behind, let the voice be late,
The body keeps its rhythm, the mind can annotate.
When the echo stops pretending it conducts the symphony,
Life plays itself — effortless, endlessly free.
