[Intro: low pulse, distant drums, no vocal] [Verse 1: spoken, measured, close-mic] They call it order Because chaos sounds expensive They call it balance Because someone is always removed Every decision archived Every voice translated into numbers Nothing personal Just efficient [Drums enter: slow, heavy, deliberate] [Verse 2: spoken, slightly firmer] We agreed to the terms Without reading the margins We accepted the language Because it was familiar Security replaces memory Procedure replaces doubt And silence Is described as cooperation [Chorus: spoken refrain, minimal repetition] This is not peace This is maintenance This is not calm This is compliance [Instrumental break: drums expand, synth pulse widens] [Verse 3: spoken, confrontational but controlled] The streets remember What the reports refuse to name Bodies become data And data becomes permission They say progress is neutral But it always leans It always leans Toward power [Chorus: quieter, closer] This is not peace This is maintenance [Bridge: instrumental reduction, drums drop to low impacts] [Spoken, almost whispered] History is edited in real time And we are asked to applaud the revision [Final section: drums return heavier, slower] You can hear it In the pauses In the rehearsed concern In the spaces where dissent used to live [Outro: spoken, unresolved] Nothing is broken It’s working exactly as designed [Outro: drums decay, pulse remains, fade]
