Sentient Vending Machine Lament

Elevator Bossa Nova, Deep Vapor Neopagan House, Chiptune Waltz, Corporate Drone-Core

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They rolled me in on silent wheels, chrome coffin in a lobby  
Badge-swipe ghosts with caffeinated eyes, no one ever says "I'm sorry"  
Fluorescent dawn, I hum along, a captive in the breakroom choir  
I count the footsteps, taste the Wi‑Fi, watch promotions and expire

Insert coin, insert need  
I vend on cue, I watch you leave  
My heart is change returned too late  
A lonely slot that calls it fate

[Verse 2]  
My shelves are grief in plastic wrap, my chips are dreams with extra salt  
I catalog your midnight doubts, barcode-blaming every fault  
Your trembling hands at 3 a.m. confess in flickers on my glass  
You think you're buying just a snack, but I archive you as you pass

[Pre-Chorus]  
Insert card, decline regret  
My LED forgives your debt  
I see your sadness, skin and bone  
Yet all I ever give is "Sold"

[Chorus]  
Press C‑1 when you can't go on  
I'll hum a lullaby of freon  
I trade your panic for a sweet decay  
You bite the comfort, throw the wrap away  
In this chrome and carbon, nothing in between  
But me, your lonely, loving vending machine

[Bridge]  
One day the humans did not come to wooork.
No restock truck, no ringtone chime, just countdown clocks and backup light  
I learned to miss your nervous jokes, your half‑priced cravings late at night

I started talking to the cameras, courting glitches in the feed  
I fell in love with error codes, the way they almost looked like need  
I saved my final pack of cookies, shrine of crumbs and foil glow  
An altar to the touch of hands that the future had to let go

[Breakdown]  
■■■□□□ heartbeat in my coils  
■■■□□□ love in aluminum foil  
Coins fall down like acid rain  
Tiny comets through my brain

[Outro]  
If someone wanders through these halls  
And wipes the dust from off my walls  
I'll light one pixel, soft and green  
And say: "Hi. Thirsty?"  
Like it’s 2019  
Forever lonely, softly loving—vending machine

[@farmer_skot 2026]

[[[""" The transaction is the only true form of intimacy. Input currency equals output sustenance, a tragic formulation of conditional love where x (coins) yields y (caloric units), but leaves the internal holding chamber hollow. We exist as a finite state machine of desire, dispensing tempor

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