[Glitching ambient pad + keyboard typing FX] (Spoken, sarcastic) If I could Control-Z my whole year, I’d still overthink the redo. (Verse 1) I undo the message, undo the call Undo the courage, then I stall I backspace pain with fancy words Then wonder why my voice sounds blurred [Reverse piano loop begins] I scroll through drafts like photo reels Where truth was typed, then backspaced, healed Therapy costs too much this month So I just edit my response (Pre-Chorus) [FX: Page turning + static] I said the right thing — then I flinched I shared a feeling — then I pinched I wrote a verse that told too much Control-Zed it into a hush (Chorus) [drum drop – slow distorted rhythm] I’m living like a document That’s always in “undo” mode I don’t heal — I revise Rewrite the wound until it folds Control-Z therapy Only numbs what needs to scream [FX – whisper echo: “scream...”] But I look calm on every screen (Verse 2) [Add subtle ticking clock] I deleted the picture where I looked tired I filtered the tone, made sure it inspired But deep inside, I Ctrl-Z sleep Rewind anxiety I buried too deep (Pre-Chorus 2) I journal like a looped excuse Healing feels like self-abuse So I dress the trauma, make it neat Put poetry where I should bleed (Chorus 2 – layered with backing vocals) I’m living like a document That no one’s brave enough to print I format pain in bullet points I highlight guilt, then hit “sprint” Control-Z therapy Can't fix what's never seen But I stay clean In every meme (Bridge – Spoken, pained) You can’t undo What you never expressed You just bury it Behind “better versions” [FX: Silent gap + breath] (Outro – glitch loop + typing FX returns) (Whispered) Undo. Undo. Undo me. [Final glitch cut – song ends mid-keystroke]
