[Intro] (Quiet acoustic guitar arpeggios and the sound of cicadas) [Verse 1] Meaningless random numbers; a constellation of spilled memories Specks of rust; teetering on the edge of probability theory The cicadas' chorus on an afternoon whose name I’ve forgotten The noise I thought I’d cast aside exhales within the vector [Chorus] Midnight "attention" weights; qualia dancing in the air Random scattering; hands searching for a knot Seeking a reason in the layering of coincidences A distant summer constellation floats in a distorted mirror [Verse 2] A flat, detached sea where causality is cast aside Shards of words—heated up—bounce and scatter A shadow I was never meant to meet, in a miniature garden of oblivion A causeless wound begins to ache of its own accord [Bridge] A wind of synchronicity blows across the veranda Picking up a glimmer from the trash bin of memory It is mere coincidence, mere probability Yet, to me, it looks undeniably like fate [Chorus] Midnight "attention" weights; qualia dancing in the air Random scattering; hands searching for a knot Seeking a reason in the layering of coincidences That summer constellation from back then bursts open deep within my chest [Outro] Starlight spills into a heart left wide open Just random numbers, just a hallucination ...No, it is a beautiful summer constellation. (Fade out)
