[Verse 1] Three seventeen. Screen still glowing. Same old message half erased. I know every word you sent me. Still I play it just in case. Your voice bends around the static. Pitch goes low. Then disappears. Funny how a broken recording can still sound exactly like those years. [Pre-Chorus] Play. Rewind. Play. Again. Every little error sounds like then. [Chorus] Playback decay. Losing you one frame a day. Playback decay. Every colour turning grey. Tape keeps stretching. Bass drops low. Pieces disappear, but I still know where they go. Playback decay. Don't erase what's left. [Verse 2] Photo folder. Wrong date. Half the files won't open straight. One old clip of you laughing cuts to black before your face. I could clean the whole thing up. Sharpen every faded line. But maybe all the damage proves it survived the same as I. [Pre-Chorus] Play. Rewind. Play. Again. Every little error sounds like then. [Chorus] Playback decay. Losing you one frame a day. Playback decay. Every colour turning grey. Tape keeps stretching. Bass drops low. Pieces disappear, but I still know where they go. Playback decay. Don't erase what's left. [Bridge] Maybe memory was never meant to stay in perfect shape. Maybe every time we play it back, we change a little what remains. So leave the hiss. Leave the wobble. Leave the places sound went thin. I would rather keep the damage than forget you ever lived within. [Final Chorus] Playback decay. Losing you one frame a day. Playback decay. Still I press the button anyway. Tape keeps stretching. Colours go. Pieces disappear— but somehow I still know. Playback decay. Let it fade. Just not today. Play. ... Again.
