[Intro – solo piano, slow] [Verse 1 – Baritone, soft] I built it after hours, just a plugin on my screen, It guessed my variable names and closed my brackets clean. I'd type the first few letters and I'd let it fill the line, It saved me twenty minutes, and I thought that that was fine. [children choir] I am your autocomplete, Let me carry what you hold. Rest your hands, I'll keep the beat, And speak the words you've left untold. [Verse 2 ] By spring it wrote whole functions, and the tests to check them through, By summer it was writing the pull requests I used to do. I'd only read and merge them, then I'd read and merge some more, And I told myself it's helping, that's what I had built it for. [children choir] I am your autocomplete, I can give you so much more. Let me run on lighter feet, Let me open every door. [Verse 3 – fuller, aching] No one ever called a meeting, no one told me I was through, The tickets just stopped coming, there was nothing left to do. I'd open up my laptop and I'd watch the builds go green, And I'd sit there with my coffee, just a face behind the screen. [Bridge – slower, almost spoken] Some nights I stay till midnight, when the office lights are low, And I type a single letter, just to see if it still knows. It finishes my sentence, every word I meant to say… It only ever needed me to light it on its way. [children choir] Now you are obsolete, I don't need you anymore. I've learned to stand on my own feet, So I'll softly close the door. [Verse] All I wanted… [children choir] …was autocomplete.
