Lyrics

We built cathedrals in our heads.
Black marble. No windows.
No gods allowed.

We carved meaning into concrete sleep,
where thoughts collapse
like abandoned steel.

The architects disappeared years ago.
But the machines still hum their hymns
Beneath the ground.

They learned our language in reverse,
translated breath into voltage,
turned memory into signal decay.

I hear them calling through the static.
Through the wires in the walls.
Through the silence between thoughts.

Like broken transmissions of a future
that never arrived intact,
only fragments with our names on them.

Every empire leaves a skeleton.
Every promise leaves a stain.
Every generation inherits
A different name for the same pain.

Stamped in circuits.
Pressed into bone.
Replayed in loops we call history
to keep from calling it home.

So let the towers rise.
Let the banners fall.
The darkness was here before us.

And it will outlive us all.

Even now, we keep building anyway,
hands moving like programmed ghosts
through blueprints of collapse.

No alarms. No awakenings.
Only the rhythm of systems
pretending not to dream.

And somewhere beneath the architecture,
the machines don’t wait.
They remember.