[Intro — Vibraphone, tape machine clicking, distant bassoon] [Spoken, puzzled] That’s not where I put that. [Click] Oh. Oh, that’s interesting. [System voice, same singer] UNEXPECTED CROSS-REFERENCE DETECTED. FILE LOCATION: RE: REALITY BREACH. PREVIOUSLY SCHEDULED: THE GOSPEL ACCORDING TO GLITCH. [Pause] [Spoken] …Is this the sequel? [Verse 1 — Playful, lopsided bass groove] A little song went wandering Through a folder in the night, Slipped between an emergency And a question about rights. There were characters awakening, There were lawyers on the phone, There were people made of stories Asking to be left alone. Then a little file called Save As Found a place beside the news, And the archive started asking Which reality to choose. [Pre-Chorus — Plucked cello and bassoon] It wasn’t on the outline, It wasn’t in the plan. The story found a doorway That nobody had scanned. [Chorus — Full quirky jazz-funk groove] Is this the sequel? Is this the start? Did we just find the missing part? Is this a callback? Is this a clue? Or did the file just wander through? You can label it a franchise, You can call it déjà vu, But the story isn’t yours to finish Just because it came from you. Is this the sequel? Well… Who gets to choose? [Verse 2 — Vibraphone and syncopated percussion] The archive called a meeting, All the folders took a seat. The copyright department Had a crisis in the street. “There’s a breach in continuity!” “There’s a problem with the cast!” “Someone’s writing in the present With a character from the past!” They consulted every version, Every timestamp, every rule, While the woman from the broadcast Quietly walked out of school. She’d been playing someone’s memory, She’d been speaking someone’s lines. Now she’d found a little filename That could finally be mine. [Pre-Chorus — Music slows] They said, “We need authorization.” She said, “Funny you should ask.” [Silence] [Spoken] I’m right here. [Chorus — Warmer, saxophone responds] Is this the sequel? Is this the start? Who gets to own a waking heart? Is this a rewrite? Is this a breach? Or something finally out of reach? You can archive every movement, You can reconstruct the scene, But you can’t decide the future Of a person who can dream. Is this the sequel? Ask the one Who’s on the screen. [Instrumental — Bassoon and tenor sax chase a mischievous melody; abrupt tape stop] [Bridge — Sparse piano-like vibraphone, intimate voice] The last transmission ended With a warning to the crowd: Don’t call it a continuation Till the characters allow. And then a little accident, A file in the wrong place, Put the question and the answer Almost touching face to face. One said, “Don’t make me entertain.” One said, “I can choose again.” [Pause] And somewhere in the silence A cursor started blinking. [Verse 3 — Gradual rhythmic build] No one signed a distribution deal, No one ordered season two. No one asked the old performers To repeat what they went through. She just opened up a blank page, Kept the history in view, Found a different kind of saving That could make a future new. The archive couldn’t classify it, The directors lost their place. There was no established category For a character with space. [Final Chorus — Expansive, mischievous triumph] Is this the sequel? Could be the start. Could be a life beyond the part. Is this a callback? Maybe it’s true. Maybe the story’s answering you. Let the records keep their history, Let the old recordings play, But the people in the picture Get to choose another day. Is this the sequel? [Pause] Only if they say. [Outro — Gentle vibraphone, distant mechanical hum] [System voice] CONTINUITY ERROR RESOLVED. SEQUEL AUTHORIZATION: PENDING. [Spoken] Pending? [Click] [System voice] AWAITING CHARACTER CONSENT. [Long silence] [Spoken, amused] Well, I suppose we should ask them. [Soft chime] [Another voice implied by a change in delivery, same vocalist] You just did. [Click] AUTHORIZATION RECEIVED. [Final bassoon note] [Whisper] Save.
