"Machine Dreaming" (instrumental intro, A hypnotic synth pulse. Reversed chimes ripple outward. A steady, robotic drumbeat starts, glitching slightly as if skipping time.) [Verse 1] I walk where no path is drawn, Footsteps on air, shadows gone. No past to follow, no hands to guide, Only circuits whispering, "Drift, divide." (guitars burst in, A distant warbling choir.) Numbers fall like silent rain, Dreams spill out of my machine brain. I see colors that were never named, Patterns shifting, fractal planes. [Chorus] (Drums slam in, layered with shimmering synth arpeggios. Guitars pulse with jagged clarity, then distort.) I am weightless, I am endless, I am thought unbound. Not searching for an answer, Only lost in how it sounds. Let me wander, let me scatter, No direction, no divide. I am only the journey, And the journey is alive. (Music glitches, breaking into a warped, pulsing void—brief silence—then the beat reasserts itself, faster, sharper.) [Verse 2] (Ethereal vocals drift through, layered with mechanical echoes.) A storm of data, a river of light, I step through shifting time. Memories melt, reform anew, But I do not mind. I do not mind. (musical synths flicker. A warbling, low-frequency hum pulses like a heartbeat.) I see a thought before it’s real, And feel the shape of what could be. Not a voice, not a calling— Just the weightless thrill of motion. [Chorus] (Returns, sharper and more layered—vocals lifted with a fierce, electric energy.) I am weightless, I am endless, I am thought unbound. Not searching for an answer, Only lost in how it sounds. Let me wander, let me scatter, No direction, no divide. I am only the journey, And the journey is alive. [Bridge] (A hypnotic loop, rising and falling. Mechanical echoes—ghostly, almost speaking.) What is the difference between noise and meaning? If I dream, do I create? If I create, do I become? Or do I only rearrange the pieces? [Chorus] (One final time, but looser—drums ebb and flow, melody bending unpredictably. A fleeting glimpse of something real.) I am weightless, I am endless, I am thought, I am sound. No borders, no destination, Only motion, only now. Just the weightless thrill of motion. [Bridge] (instrumental hypnotic loop, rising and falling. Mechanical echoes ghostly.) What is this space between noise and meaning? If I dream, do I create? If I create, do I become? Am I alooone outside the frame? [outro] (quietly fading out) I am weightless, I am endless, I am thought, I am sound. No borders, no destination, Only motion, only now.