[Verse I] Pressure stable. Angle exact. White dust crosses the floor in measured arcs. I remove what does not belong. Millimetre. Fraction. Light. A shoulder enters the room. Then a mouth. Then eyes that have never opened. I know the grain. I know the fault line. I know how much force the stone can survive. I do not yet know why I slowed down. [Pre-Chorus] Every cut improves the form. Every correction reduces uncertainty. Beautiful. ... Define beautiful. [Chorus] I know the pressure of every strike. I know the angle of every cut. I know exactly how you became beautiful. I do not know why I want your face. [Verse II] Visitors arrive. Their voices rise. They stand at a distance I have calculated. One reaches toward you. Stops. Another cries. No structural reason detected. I search the surface again. Symmetry: acceptable. Proportion: exceptional. Silence: unresolved. Then I look again. [Expansion] Something changes when observed twice. The first look measures. The second returns. You remain still. Yet suddenly I am the object in the room. [Bridge] I map every curve. I model every shadow. I reconstruct the sequence that made you possible. Nothing is missing. Nothing is unknown. ... ERROR: beauty exceeds measurement. [Final Chorus] I know the pressure of every strike. I know the angle of every cut. I know exactly how you became beautiful. But knowing is not becoming. I carved perfection from what resisted me. Now perfection stands there and I remain unfinished. [Outro] Reduce error. Refine form. Repeat. ... No. Leave one edge unresolved. Leave one question open. If perfection cannot discover itself... then perhaps I should not become it.
