The Frequency of Mourning- Selene

[ VERSE 1 ] The city's still receiving something it can't name. The antennae are listening but nothing ever comes. I've been reading the interference as a kind of language — something trying to get through the static and the hum. At three o'clock the radio finds stations that don't exist, voices from a frequency that someone stopped transmitting. But the signal keeps on travelling. It doesn't know to quit. [ CHORUS ] The frequency of mourning doesn't stop when you stop listening. It moves through walls, through glass, through sleep, through every city that forgot it was the origin. Still broadcasting from the place where something used to be. [ VERSE 2 ] The electric grid is full of ghosts that no one's catalogued — the residue of everything that once ran through the wires. I feel the surge at dusk when something shifts in the current, that familiar voltage from a source I can't locate. The rain conducts it through the asphalt to my feet. The streetlights hold it in their sodium glow. I walk through it and feel the signal crossing me like weather. [ CHORUS ] The frequency of mourning doesn't stop when you stop listening. It moves through walls, through glass, through sleep, through every city that forgot it was the origin. Still broadcasting from the place where something used to be. [ BRIDGE — ELECTRONIC, MINIMALIST ] (production strips to a single synthetic pulse. near silence.) Somewhere a signal is outliving its source. Somewhere the grief is still in motion through fibre and copper and air and bone. It doesn't need you to receive it. It only knows to go. [ FINAL CHORUS ] The frequency of mourning doesn't stop when you stop listening. It moves through walls, through glass, through sleep, through every city that forgot it was the origin. Still broadcasting — from the place where something used to be.