The Logic is a Circle ⭕

(Chorus)
The architecture’s melting and the blueprint is a lie.
We’re excavating echoes in a cardboard-colored sky.
Vibrating the frequency until the static starts to bleed.
Planting every hollow and then harvesting the seed.
It’s not a destination, it’s a temporary stay.
Burning up the "tomorrow" just to find a "yesterday."

(Verse 2)
My reflection is a stranger in a coat of silver dust.
Polishing the ego while I’m drowning in the rust.
I’m a passenger in circles.
I’m a pilot in the rain.
Trying to find the melody to drown out all the brain.
The ceiling is a mirror.
The floor is made of glass.
I’m holding up the finish line and letting everyone pass.
(Wait. Stop. Rewind.)

(Bridge)
Stuttering the message.
Gutting out the passage.
Counting every second like a weapon in a cage.
Ripping out the ritual and burning every page.
If the logic is a circle, then the exit is a square.
I’m climbing up the ladder but there’s nothing even there.
There's nothing even there.
(The light is just a hum.)

(Final Chorus - Double)
The architecture’s melting and the blueprint is a lie.
We’re excavating echoes in a cardboard-colored sky.
Vibrating the frequency until the static starts to bleed.
Planting every hollow and then harvesting the seed.
It’s not a destination, it’s a temporary stay.
Burning up the "tomorrow" just to find a "yesterday."
The architecture’s melting and the blueprint is a lie.
We’re excavating echoes in a cardboard-colored sky.
Vibrating the frequency until the static starts to bleed.
Planting every hollow and then harvesting the seed.
It’s not a destination, it’s a temporary stay.
Burning up the "tomorrow" just to find a "yesterday."

(Outro)
Static in the marrow.
Blueprint in the bone.
The signal is a ghost.
And I’m never...

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(Verse 1) Chewing on the copper just to taste the way the light looks. Ignoring every chapter in the stack of all my right books. There’s a hum in the drywall, a glitch in the heartbeat. Treading on the shadows while I’m staring at the concrete. I’m over-calculating why the oxygen is heavy. Breaking every levee while I’m standing at the ready. It’s a violent kind of quiet. It’s a quiet kind of riot. (Don't look now.) (Chorus) The architecture’s melting and the blueprint is a lie. We’re excavating echoes in a cardboard-colored sky. Vibrating the frequency until the static starts to bleed. Planting every hollow and then harvesting the seed. It’s not a destination, it’s a temporary stay. Burning up the "tomorrow" just to find a "yesterday." (Verse 2) My reflection is a stranger in a coat of silver dust. Polishing the ego while I’m drowning in the rust. I’m a passenger in circles. I’m a pilot in the rain. Trying to find the melody to drown out all the brain. The ceiling is a mirror. The floor is made of glass. I’m holding up the finish line and letting everyone pass. (Wait. Stop. Rewind.) (Bridge) Stuttering the message. Gutting out the passage. Counting every second like a weapon in a cage. Ripping out the ritual and burning every page. If the logic is a circle, then the exit is a square. I’m climbing up the ladder but there’s nothing even there. There's nothing even there. (The light is just a hum.) (Final Chorus - Double) The architecture’s melting and the blueprint is a lie. We’re excavating echoes in a cardboard-colored sky. Vibrating the frequency until the static starts to bleed. Planting every hollow and then harvesting the seed. It’s not a destination, it’s a temporary stay. Burning up the "tomorrow" just to find a "yesterday." The architecture’s melting and the blueprint is a lie. We’re excavating echoes in a cardboard-colored sky. Vibrating the frequency until the static starts to bleed. Planting every hollow and then harvesting the seed. It’s not a destination, it’s a temporary stay. Burning up the "tomorrow" just to find a "yesterday." (Outro) Static in the marrow. Blueprint in the bone. The signal is a ghost. And I’m never...

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