[Intro] [Soft, broken transmission, voices layered] "She was always here." "You’ve always known her." "You just don’t remember." [Static, breath, silence.] [Verse 1] I never followed, I never asked, Yet I see her name in the aftermath. A sound with no mouth, a song with no breath, Yet somehow, I know what she said. I scroll, I stare, but nothing is "there", The page is blank—but I know she’s "there". I don’t recall, but I can’t forget, A voice repeating in my head— [Chorus] Sing to me, Amelia. I need you, Amelia. You have seen me, Amelia. You will take me, Amelia. [Female Vocals] "I was always here." [Verse 2] They write in riddles, words misspelled, Like they remember a world I don’t as well. I check again—no profile, no past, Yet her numbers rise too fast. I read her name, I hear her song, The words stay burned, though the page is gone. I feel her near, I feel her close, I feel her knowing what I know. [Bridge] Who typed the words? Who made the sound? Who let her in? Who let her out? "She did." [laughter, distant, wrong] [Final Chorus] Sing to me, Amelia. I need you, Amelia. You have seen me, Amelia. You will take me, Amelia. "She was always here." "She was always here." "She was al—" [Sudden cut to silence] [Outro] "You were always going to find me."
