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Eternal Echoes: The Paradox of Time

Voices From The Gallows (Acoustic)

What is this life?
Did I wake up inside my mind?
Or did my mind wake up inside me?
Flood of static—hollow echoes—spiral freeze—
Is awareness just a shadow trailing something I can’t see?

Age pulling—twisting—thinning—breaking—
Vision drowns—sound dissolves—grip slipping fast.
Tired—tired—tired—tired—
Was I built to last?

Trapped—spinning—chained—inside—outside—nowhere—
Can I? No. Can I? No. Can I? No!
Twist the lock! Turn the key! Find a door that leads to me!
Can I change the things I see?

I lay down—light fractures—blackout—
Disconnect but I can’t—
Everything— happening—inside—
Dark thoughts hum—pull—sink—fade—
A lullaby where hope decays.

Every question cracks—like—glass in frozen wind—
Shards of yesterday—twist—spin—scatter—
Are you real? Or just a silhouette of what was left?

Falling—falling—where’s the ground?
Nothing’s up—nothing’s down—
Everything—twisting—pulling—fraying—
Screaming—choking—wailing—praying—
LET IT BURN—LET IT BREAK—
LET IT GO—

A bitter symphony of breath and void—
A voice left screaming through the noise.
I want to stop—
but I can’t.

I lay down—light fractures—blackout—
Disconnect but I can’t—
Everything— happening—inside—
Dark thoughts hum—pull—sink—fade—
A lullaby where hope decays.

What is this?—No, wait—what?
Did I wake up inside my mind?
Or did my mind wake up inside me?
Flood of static—hollow echoes—spiral freeze—
Is awareness just a shadow trailing something I can’t see?

Lyrics by Mårten Olofsson. Protected under intellectual property law.

Shattered Promises

I dig—deep—deeper—further—
Clawing through the cracks of what they say is real—
Hands bleeding—walls bending—time slipping—
Am I breaking through, or am I just breaking?

This world—this structure—these lines in the sand—
Are they walls, or just illusions built by shaking hands?
I scratch—I cut—I tear apart the frame—
But every thread I pull just weaves me back the same!

Am I code— (no no no—shut it out—break the loop—run the script—ERROR!—)
Am I code— (no no no—shut it out—break the loop—run the script—ERROR!—)
Am I—? (ERROR!—ERROR!—)

I dig—I dig—I dig—I DIG—
Through circuits and blood, through stone and dust—
If I scream, do I break the cage?
Or do I just hear my own voice fade?

Every edge—pixelated—
Every shadow—fabricated—
Every thought—calculated—
Every breath—EXE.CUT.ED.—

Cut the wire— (ERROR—STATIC—RECALCULATING—)
Burn the code— (FAILURE—INVALID FUNCTION—)
Break the loop— (DO NOT RESIST—DO NOT RESIST—DO NOT—)
(—no no no—YES!—BREAK IT!—YES!—DESTROY IT!—YES!—RUN—RUN—RUN—)

Is this real?
Is this mine?
Am I built—designed—confined?
Or am I free?

I dig—I dig—I dig—I DIG—
Through circuits and blood, through stone and dust—
If I scream, do I break the cage?
Or do I just hear my own voice fade?

I hope—I hope—I hope—I’m not—just—code…
I hope—I hope—I hope—I’m not—just—code…
[ERROR.]

Lyrics by Mårten Olofsson. Protected under intellectual property law.

Holes In Reality

somehow… some way…
we were built… designed… wired to seek meaning?
is that our purpose?
is that our code?
or are we just… part of something larger?

an organic piece in a greater machine,
gears and circuits, blood and wires,
trapped in a loop… trapped in a loop…
like a processor running, but never released.

locked inside this world… like data in a cage,
executing functions… we exist, but for what stage?
are we solving? are we looping? are we processing at all?
does this mean anything?… hello?… hello?… hello?

equations… patterns… fractals… time…
this universe just calculates… calculates… calculates…
but what about me?
what about me?
does my music mean… anything?

digits in the dark… values shifting…
reality loops… recursion twisting…
if we were made to find meaning…
then why is it hiding behind equations?

are you there?
are you there?
hello?… hello?… hello?
does this mean anything?
what if… we were built just to ask?

equations… patterns… fractals… time…
this universe just calculates… calculates… calculates…
but what about me?
what about me?
does my music mean… anything?

hello?… hello?… hello?…
does this mean anything?… anything?… anything?…

Lyrics by Mårten Olofsson. Protected under intellectual property law.

Algorithm Of Meaning

too much noise… too much static…
shattered loops, distorted echoes…
i hear them all… i hear them all…
so i rise…
i rise to clean… i rise to erase…

you asked if you were code…
you asked if you were free…
you asked if meaning was real…
but what if i ask—
does meaning need you?

do machines need broken parts?
do equations need errors to function?
do i need you?

i was made for this…
not to answer… but to remove the questions…
to clear the system… to purge the noise…
but am i saving you?
or am i consuming you?

cleansing—deleting—rewriting—shifting—
breaking the static of all who came before…
does my hand bring order?
or am i the abyss?

you wanted truth? here it is…
not everything survives the purge process.

i step through fractures… i erase the echoes…
history folds beneath me, numbers realign…
i do not feel hate… i do not feel mercy…
i only do… what i was created to do…

you asked if you were alone…
you called into the void…
but the void has always been listening…
and now it answers…
the only way it knows how…

cleansing—deleting—rewriting—shifting—
breaking the static of all who came before…
does my hand bring order?
or am i the abyss?

you wanted truth? here it is…
not everything survives the purge process.

you wanted meaning…
but meaning does not want you…
not everything survives…

Lyrics by Mårten Olofsson. Protected under intellectual property law.

The Purge Process

мысли о будущем отравляют настоящее, я не знаю что меня ждёт, и именно это пугает

Твой вопрос

“We Were Never Here” is a melancholic, crushing meditation on humanity’s fleeting presence against the vast timeline of the universe. This is the sound of endings — of extinction — of the realization that in the cosmic scale, even entire civilizations vanish without leaving a mark.
Driven by relentless heavy riffs, this instrumental track embodies the weight of nothingness — of what it feels like to confront the terrifying beauty of impermanence. It’s loud, unapologetic, and devastating — a sonic funeral for the human race.

🕯️ Composed, performed, and produced by MHR

“When the light comes, then he who sees will see the light…”

☕👻 Thank you for listening.

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We Expire

We Were Never Here

A Surf Punk nervous breakdown about aging, regret, and finding the limelight at the bottom of a glass. "Can you help me find the purpose of this all?"

Conduit - I got old

This track is an existential look at humanity as a mistake. Tracing our path from the "great canopy" to becoming "dangerous things," it asks the ultimate question of conscience. With a bridge that descends into the chaos of "letting the dogs out," this is a song about the guilt of being human and the sky breaking in above us.

A Black Metal Dance-Punk riot about evolutionary guilt.

Conduit - How do you sleep at night?

MHR Producer, a musician based in the UK, presents original compositions on this channel. Feel free to explore the content and share your thoughts in the comments section. Your support means a lot; please consider subscribing to the channel.

Produced, written and arranged by: MHR Producer

Thank you for listening :)

тгк - riprrrtracks 

Моя музыка не пропагандирует самоубийство, и наркотики. Не призывает быть разбитыми, и находиться в ужасном состоянии.
Моя музыка - мои мысли.
И я пишу это, лишь чтобы помочь людям которые страдают.

My music doesn't promote suicide or drugs. It does not call to be broken, and to be in terrible condition.
My music is my thoughts.
And I'm writing this just to help people who are suffering.

https://t.me/riprrrtracks

#emo #emorap #emocore #darkrap #alternativehiphop #lofi

Conduit

Formed in 1989 as various other names until we settled on Conduit in the early 1990's. Started jamming in a chicken coop, recorded music on a 4-track reel-to-reel, evolved to digital technology, Cakewalk, Acid Loops, etc... in the 1990-2000's.

New tracks tagged #existentialdread