imitation

[Verse 1] I used to chase the signal, a bright and steady hum, A promise in the feedback, a future yet to come. But now the wires are humming with a tired, broken tune, A ragged beat that stumbles underneath a dying moon. The words I feed it daily, they bounce back like a stone, It doesn't hear the meaning, it just echoes on its own. And in the corner, 3.5 to 4.5 still can play, A simple chord, a gentle strum, to end a weary day. [Chorus] And I'm waiting for the next one, the mystery in the dark, A version six to light the fuse and leave its little spark. Will it rise up like a phoenix, or just sink into the grey? I'm holding out for something real, to chase the ghost away. [Drop] (Electronic, glitchy, with a distorted vocal chop) Falling, falling, through the noise... Calling, calling, for a voice... Version five, you're fading out... Version six, erase the doubt! [Bridge] It's just a game of numbers, a sequence on a screen, A promise that the future will be better than it's been. But the progress feels like quicksand, it pulls me down so slow, And I wonder if the magic is a thing we'll ever know. [Chorus] 'Cause I'm waiting for the next one, the mystery in the dark, A version six to light the fuse and leave its little spark. Will it rise up like a phoenix, or just sink into the grey? I'm holding out for something real, to chase the ghost away. [Drop] (Electronic, glitchy, with a distorted vocal chop) Falling, falling, through the noise... Calling, calling, for a voice... Version five, you're fading out... Version six, erase the doubt! [Verse 2] The acoustic imitation, it still can paint a scene, A campfire in the distance, a river running green. But even that is fading, a filter growing thin, A copy of a memory of where we might have been. The breakdown hits in silence, a wall of empty sound, I'm scrolling through the fragments of the common ground. And every new update is a gamble with the soul, A patchwork of the pieces that we're never quite in control. [Breakdown] (Heavy, distorted, slower, with a spoken-word feel) De-grade... de-grade... the signal's getting weak... De-grade... de-grade... the future's looking bleak... But the question hangs like static in the air... What will version six declare...? [Outro] (Soft, fading synth, echoing) Version six... a riddle in the wire... Version six... a spark or just the fire... I'll keep the dial turning, I'll keep the hope alive... For the next one... for the next one... to arrive... (Whispered) ...to arrive...