System crash… no escape
Hope erased… can’t update

Every pixel cuts my face
Every signal leaves no trace
Scrolling nights, the endless fall
It doesn’t get better at all

[Pre-Chorus]
Error static in my brain
Every loop just feels the same

[Chorus]
It doesn’t get better at all
Glitching high, then watching me fall
It doesn’t get better at all
Digital silence, nothing to call

[Verse 2]
Synthetic love, it fades to grey
Bodies vanish, codes decay
Broken mirrors on the wall
It doesn’t get better at all

[Pre-Chorus]
Error static in my brain
Every loop just feels the same

[Chorus]
It doesn’t get better at all
Glitching high, then watching me fall
It doesn’t get better at all
Digital silence, nothing to call

[Bridge]
Bzzt—crash—shut down my skin
Noise inside, I can’t begin
Bzzt—crash—shut down my skin
Dark horizon pulling me in

[Final Chorus]
It doesn’t get better at all
Glitching high, then watching me fall
It doesn’t get better at all
Digital silence, nothing to call

It doesn’t get better at all (Pop Rock reload)

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track ready for Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

I use every tool available — human or machine — as an instrument.
Technology doesn’t replace creativity. It expands it.

Фэрбэй

Xelasî hebi ew jî ji Ûmmetî tê rêdarno. Ne hêjayi gi tiştê îro hatîyi serême em sibê bînin serê milletek dinê...

Ez Kurdum, ew Tirk, ê din Ereb em giş hev dikujun lê em giş bi çavê wxen dibînin ji em pê nahisin gi xwîname giş eynî rengî diheriki...

https://manifestokurdi.blogspot.com/2024/06/manifestoya-mileten-li-ber-sekerate.html?m=1

It doesn’t get better at all (Pop Rock reload)

Terminalose