[Intro] [Atmospheric analog synth pad, ticking clock percussion, stark and mechanical] [Deep pulsing sub-bassline enters] [Verse 1] [Vocal: Intimate, rhythmic, deadpan spoken-word] Lately I swear I hear it calling in the air, A distant force that follows me everywhere, A voice without a body, pulling me somewhere, Inside a deafening weather… it is time. [Chorus] [Music: Shimmering synth layers, melodic lift, driving groove] [Vocal: Melodic, airy yet powerful] So unassuming, you'd never know that it's there, Barely a trace of it, already gone somewhere, Unseen in every place, alive in everything, drifting, Without a single still moment, we can feel it slipping... time. [Verse 2] [Music: Bass intensifies, sharp industrial claps, sarcastic tone] [Vocal: Sardonically expressive, rhythmic baritone] They ask for it as a gift, they take it on a loan, Blind to the priceless value of what is never owned, Then why do I still falter when it's laid before me, A harvest beyond all worth, too vast to see, [Chorus] [Music: Full synth-pop production, maximum groove, bittersweet melody] [Vocal: Melodic, theatrical, airy and powerful] So unassuming, like nothing at all, yet prevailing, Hardly tangible, never here, forever leaving, Unseen in every place, alive in everything, drifting, Without a moment truly ours, watch it shifting... time... [Bridge] [Music: Sudden atmospheric breakdown, heavy sub-bass swells, minimal percussion] [Vocal: Increasing intensity, dramatic delivery, building tension] Meanwhile we trade our days for ways to kill the hours, Out of breath from chasing what was never ours, Where is it? I can feel it... I reach, I still believe, Though I weigh every thought, I fear where it may lead, [Chorus] [Music: Maximum energy, synth-pop climax, bright layers over dark bass] [Vocal: Melodic lift, passionate and theatrical] So unassuming, like nothing at all, yet prevailing, Hardly tangible, never here, forever leaving, Unseen in every place, alive in everything, drifting, Without a single perfect moment, it bleeds, singing... time... [Outro] [Music: Drums cut out abruptly, only a lonely, cold synth remains] [Vocal: Deep, grave, slow spoken-word, chillingly calm] We were not handed lives that had to end too soon, We made them so ourselves before they reached their close. [End] [Final ticking clock sound, sharp cut to absolute silence]
