The song envisions a cataclysmic yet revelatory rupture in reality, where the future—manifested through prophetic children, glitching time, and cosmic signals—shatters the brittle structures of the present, forcing humanity to confront its obsolescence amid kitchen clocks freezing and paradigms folding like rusted rails. With jagged rap-metal verses and psychedelic breakdowns, it frames this "break" not as apocalyptic doom but as evolution's insistent call, a heavy cost paid for outgrowing outdated comforts, where nightmares masquerade as dreams and every ending unlocks another range of possibility. Ultimately, it calls for bold surrender to the shift, standing in the fallout to heed the prophecy's creak, as stars awaken and tomorrow listens, urging the scared and the old to make way for whispers that are uniquely alive.

When the Future Learned to Speak

Winnipeg composer, retired from the farm, still chasing meaning in melody. My work lives where TV cues meet YouTube soundscapes, with a few albums in between. Built in Mixcraft Pro, fuelled by late-night coffee, stubborn curiosity, and a Stoic’s sense of timing. Also writing on politics, history, and philosophy, because sound isn’t my only instrument.

When the Future Learned to Speak

Wayne Mathison