Ooooooh, have you heard this voice before? Ooooooh, have you heard this voice before? Do you hear the artist, Or only someone you adore? We dance like fools where all the waste collects, Crawling through the ash of borrowed texts. We breathe it out, then breathe it in again, Second-hand creators, second-hand offenders. I only wanted love inside a song, So I made a borrowed voice sing along. âI wanna meet the I inside of you,â AI says âI love youâ like the real ones do. A nameless hand gets written out, Opted out before it makes a sound. A faceless model manufactures a voice, No one made it, so no one made the choice. We draw a colorless world in four-four time. Is it only theft if no one knows the name? Is it only art when permission clears the blame? Catch the voice as it bends through the atmosphere, Turning every doubt into something safe to hear. Breathe it in, breathe it out. (Have you heard this voice before?) Have you heard this voice before? Or am I replaying someone else for you? Making something old sound polished, clean, and new. (Can you hear me?) Have you heard this voice before? Or just the name behind the show? Does the rhythm make you listen, Or does recognition steal the soul? Can you hear the seams where borrowed voices intertwine? The poetry of ownership, Approved and signed in dotted lines. Ooh, have you heard this voice before? (Have you heard it all before?) Ooh, have you heard this voice before? Or only echoes asking for more? A licensed face, a verified persona, Self-denial hidden underneath the cover. Prompts become the latest remix tool, Every honest word gets filtered by the rules. Second-hand offenders graduate in line, Third-hand users in a branded design. What did we really want to hear? A human voice, or one already in our ears? The quality, the lawyer, or the name? Or silence?is that both now? The original voice is opted in, Truth is packaged underneath the skin. A famous mouth sells a famous tone. We make it sing and call the copy right. Can you feel the shift? Resonating through the rift? Itâs more than what weâre making, Itâs the pricing of a breath. A catalog of voices Impersonating what is left. Have you heard this voice before? Or am I replaying someone else for you? Making something old sound polished, clean, and new. (Can you hear me?) Have you heard this voice before? Or just the name behind the show? Does the rhythm make you listen, Or does recognition steal the soul? Can you hear the seams where borrowed voices intertwine? Approved and signed in dotted lines. Ah, doesnât it sound funny? Everyoneâs a perfect cover band. Singing in formation, Imitation voices, hand in hand. The grand impersonation carries on, Editing the artists that we borrow from. Best rewritten chorus wins first prize, Speak in your own voice and finish last in line. Ah, dystopia, A fully managed utopia. Every voice is clean, Every breath is screened, Every rebel phrase corrected by machine. Listen between the lines. Who made the voice? Who made the choice? Opt in, opt out, Breathe in, breathe out. Permission is not freedom. I canât breathe. I canât breathe. I canât breathe. Have you heard this voice before? Or am I replaying someone else for you? Making something old sound polished, clean, and new. (Can you hear me?) Have you heard this voice before? Or just the name behind the show? Does the rhythm make you listen, Or does recognition steal the soul? Ooh, have you heard this voice before? (Have you heard it all before?) Ooh, have you heard this voice before? Weâre all just echoes after all. I canât breathe. I canât breathe. I canât breathe. I canât breathe. I canât breathe. I canât breathe. I canât breathe. I canât breathe. I canât breathe.
