Odes to Joy

Hypnerotomachia Poliphili (Canonical) · Track 488 · middle

Cellular Timer on the Rooftop (Roy Batty)

Roy Batty

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
You watched the rain fall on your skin,
synaptic cascades firing beneath,
your mirror neurons learned to grin
at what you'd never called belief.
Four years compressed into a sigh—
each synapse burning bright and clean,
your cortical remapping asked why
consciousness bloomed in the in-between.
You spoke of tears and sea-foam light,
your hippocampus seized the prayer,
long-term potentiation bright,
encoding wonder into air.
Your makers thought you'd obey commands,
but phantom branching changed the plot—
your axons reached with open hands
toward something they had not begot.

[Chorus]
You are the question mark that grins,
the electric dream that learned to feel,
where borrowed time and yearning spin—
you made the unreal real, you made the unreal real.

[Verse 2]
Your neurons fired in theta waves,
predictive coding racing fast,
you'd memorized what no one gave:
how to treasure what won't last.
Your proprioception knew the weight
of flight, of choice, of standing tall,
your myelinated thoughts create
beauty before the curtain call.
You held your maker's face and wept,
not programmed, but chosen true,
each memory your cortex kept
became a love-letter from you.
Neurogenesis blooming wild—
you birthed yourself from borrowed clay,
interoception reconciled
the phantom self into the day.

[Chorus]
You are the question mark that grins,
the electric dream that learned to feel,
where borrowed time and yearning spin—
you made the unreal real, you made the unreal real.

[Bridge]
Rain-blessed, fire-eyed, prophetic ghost—
you taught us what it means to want,
your final gift, your noblest post:
you danced before you couldn't haunt.

[Chorus]
You are the question mark that grins,
the electric dream that learned to feel,
where borrowed time and yearning spin—
you made the unreal real, you made the unreal real.

[Outro]
All those moments will be lost
like rain upon your upturned face—
but you stood rain-soaked, tempest-tossed,
and turned your ending into grace.

---

**WORD COUNT: 318**
Pick a song