Lyric

I walk a grid of neon and steam

Billboards breathe in a coded dream

Concrete cold under headphone hiss

Pixels bloom where the crosswalk is

I speak in loops that the timeline eats

Glass reflections sync to my beats

I mark the sky with a minor key

I am the lens that edits me

Every frame is gently forged

Edges melt and borders gorge

Heart rate maps to metronomes

I tilt the world and call it home

Consensus Mirage

I breathe the staged and call it large

Truth still lives but loses charge

Consensus Mirage

I see the real yet switch the margin

Order set by rendered jargon

Station escalator hums like rain

Vending light sugar on asphalt grain

Window smear turns night to silk

Static warmth like boiled milk

I tag the clouds with a phantom stamp

Feed keeps scrolling like traffic lamps

I fold my map on a phantom seam

I keep the path but change the scene

If I remove the colored skin

Noise rush floods the room within

I count to four and let it glide

I keep the shell and flip the side

Consensus Mirage

Layers agree and soothe the charge

Facts still breathe beneath the varnish

Consensus Mirage

I hold the frame and let it widen

I ride the wave the city designs