[Chorus] I found myself at the gate again Laughin’ in a language made of light and wind Colors in the rhythm, textures in the sound And the thing I called myself got laid gently down [Verse 1] It started with a shimmer in the back of the room A low electric flower and a copper bloom Then the air turned syrup, then the walls went wide And the floor dropped out to the other side There was honey in the echo, there was blue in the snare Green folded thunder hanging thick in the air Every sound wore color, every color had a face Then the little bright mechanics came and filled the place They were small as sparks, but endless in their eyes Made of clockwork laughter and impossible replies They danced in the geometry behind what I could see Like they’d known I was coming, like they’d been expecting me ⸻ [Chorus] Machine elves at the gate again Laughin’ in a language made of light and wind Colors in the rhythm, textures in the sound And the thing I called myself got laid gently down Machine elves at the gate tonight Carvin’ little stairways out of violet light Every bell was breathing, every tone had weight When I crossed that threshold, they were waiting at the gate ⸻ [Verse 2] One of them touched a note and it turned into gold One of them bent a shadow till the whole room rolled One of them spun my name like smoke above a flame And when I reached to grab it, I forgot why it had weight There were saffron choirs in a velvet-green stream A silver bass pulse sewing through the dream And the more I listened, the less of me remained Just a bright open window where the silence had a name Not fear, not death, not falling apart More like being poured back into a deeper heart Like the mask I wore was only weather on the glass And the little hidden forever had come shining through at last ⸻ [Hook] They sang in shapes, they spoke in flame They took the locks right off my name I lost the outline, kept the glow And became the space between the notes ⸻ [Verse 3] Then the whole room bloomed in tessellated rain Crimson on the ceiling, indigo in my veins Every thought turned liquid, every memory turned mist And the self I’d been defending slipped right through my fist The elves kept grinning with their jeweled machine grace Like saints from the circuitry behind all time and space They didn’t try to teach me, didn’t need to explain They just opened up the center and undid the frame Then the sounds got softer, like a warm unfolding sea And I felt the whole wide cosmos breathing itself as me No inside, no outside, no mine and no yours Just a field of living radiance without a single door ⸻ [Bridge / Dub Space] Was it in the color? (Echo: “the color…”) Was it in the tone? (Echo: “the tone…”) Why did every little texture feel more like home? (Echo: “like home…”) Was it in the laughter? (Echo: “the laughter…”) Was it in the flame? (Echo: “the flame…”) Why’d they take apart the meaning of my name? (Echo: “my name…”) Little bright builders… (Echo: “bright builders…”) Tiny ancient friends… (Echo: “ancient friends…”) Met me at the doorway where the finite bends (Echo: “finite bends…”) ⸻ [Chorus] Machine elves at the gate again Laughin’ in a language made of light and wind Colors in the rhythm, textures in the sound And the thing I called myself got laid gently down Machine elves at the gate tonight Carvin’ little stairways out of violet light Every bell was breathing, every tone had weight When I crossed that threshold, they were waiting at the gate ⸻ [Outro] Now when the night gets thin and the candles sway I still hear their music from that other place Not as a memory, more a hidden thread Running through the living and the things unsaid And when the world feels hard and the edges all return I remember colored thunder and the way the textures burned How the ones made out of laughter showed me something true: Lose sight of what you thought you were and the universe looks back through you
