Lyric

co is not about things.
It is about what happens between them.

Sound appears, reaches out,
fails to hold its shape,
and quietly dissolves.
Meaning does not disappear
it thins, like light passing through water.

Nothing here insists on being understood.
If you do not reach for it,
it remains only sound
green fragments, unconnected, still.

If you do,
relations begin to surface.

This work stands between two moments in time.

The 1920s,
when belief in progress turned desire into structure,
and dreams learned the language of capital.

The 2020s,
where the same belief moves faster,
smoother,
until touch itself becomes optional.

co does not judge either era.
It listens to the space between them
to the echo that forms when continuity breaks.

A sudden descent.
A brief sense of totality.
And then, silence.

What fades does not vanish.
What remains does not last.

Memory evaporates,
yet something lingers
a residue without a name.

co exists only in relation.
Not as an answer,
but as a condition.