Telegraphed Path

[Intro] [minimalist electronic beat enters, sub-bass pulses] [baritone male vocals, dry production] Telegraphed path. I'm not scared of the man that I am, but of the man I'll become. Because that's the man that I'll love, instead of hoping to outrun. There's no more hiding... [Verse 1] [high-pitched sine synth motif enters] I, protected lying. Am, done merely trying. Not, trapped by the timing. What, they tell me I've been. Shame, dictates the why-when. Claims: I'm fucking dying. I'm sold on the series old, cliché growth speech, as progress molds into decay, then makes my soul weep: “How is this any different?” [Bridge] [vocal cadence accelerates, rhythmic syncopation] Will I- Escape the irony I've- Set for myself, left to find- Written in all the same lines- Fall into traps that are mine- Outside the moment I'm blind- Concentric patterns rewind- Circling backwards in time 𝄇 [Repeat] [Repeat] [Repeat] {Release} [Outro] [beat continues, synth pads swell] Nothing changes if Nothing changes... You turn the page -> <- Look in amazement Look at the words -> <- Verbs, and their phrases Yet still: No thing changes if No thing changes... [fade out]