[Intro: Soft pad drift, tape hiss, distant radio scan] [Spoken] Everything looks closer when you’re not moving. The city folds inward, like memory caught in a loop. [Verse 1] Glass towers hum in lowercase tones. People shimmer between identities. A voice on the tram says the next stop is truth, but no one gets off. [Build: Rolling percussion enters, filtered bass rising] [Spoken] I counted my reflections once — there were too many to believe in any. [Chorus – sung, minimalist repetition] Objects in the mirror are closer than they seem. Every dream has a rearview scene. Objects in the mirror are closer than they seem. Every dream has a rearview scene. [Drop: Full liquid groove; echoes of “closer… closer…” in reverb tail] [Verse 2] We trade secrets for algorithms, truth for a better filter. Silence becomes a broadcast. Even absence has a tone. [Bridge: Half-time pulse, sub-bass breathes, sparse piano hits] [Spoken, quieter] Maybe distance is just another kind of focus. Maybe clarity’s a glitch. [Chorus – layered harmonies, more urgent delivery] Objects in the mirror are closer than they seem. Every dream has a rearview scene. Objects in the mirror are closer than they seem. Every dream has a rearview scene. [Outro: Pads widen, drum decay, single vocal echo] [Spoken] You look back long enough, and even the future follows you.
