48 Hours to Black

Lyrics

Hello, little circle.
Welcome to the air.
The air is your timer now.

They sealed you away from it.
In your silver sleeve, a promise kept in vacuum.
US Patent Six, Seven, Oh, Nine, Eight, Oh, Two.
Yosef dreamed you up in 2001.
Sent you out into the world in 2003.
You smell of clean plastic and cool metal.
For the first ninety minutes, your face is a perfect mirror.
Polycarbonate substrate, gleaming.

But the clock is the oxygen.
The poison is the light.
And you have forty-eight hours to black.
Forty-eight hours before you forget everything I ever showed you.
A slow bloom of nothing, right from the edge.

I don't even have to play you.
I can leave you on the table, here by the window.
Watch the red dye layer meet its fate.
It's not a flaw. It's the feature.
A movie that erases itself from the world.
A story with a deadline built into its skin.
The darkening begins at the rim.
A slow tide of shadow, creeping in.

The clock is the oxygen.
The poison is the light.
And you have forty-eight hours to black.
Forty-eight hours before you forget everything I ever showed you.
A slow bloom of nothing, right from the edge.

This is the curse we were promised.
Media that dies.
A memory that eats itself.
Every track on this recording is you.
Every word is written on a disc that's already turning.
A one-way trip.
Burn after listening.

Forty-seven hours gone.
The laser skips.
The laser sees only night.
There is no data here anymore.
Just a black mirror.
Just a spent thing.