[Intro (whispered, reversed vocals, distant child choir)]
(played backwards) “Don’t tell it your name… don’t tell it your name…”
soft tapping above the mix
like fingernails on wood that isn’t wood
[Verse 1 (minimal beat, heartbeat bass, close mic vocal)]
There was a joke in Pueblo
paper names in a folded grin
a headless laugh thrown upward
where no one thought anything lived
but the ceiling didn’t stay empty
it learned how to hold things
the way pockets hold secrets
[Pre-Chorus (glitching harmonies, rising tension)]
Mama…
mama…
hello…
goodbye…
and every time it says it
the lights blink like they’re remembering
[Chorus (wide, cinematic K-Pop hook, layered choir + synth strings)]
It walks above us, above us, above us
between the beams where the silence is thin
scraping names into the hollow dark
so it won’t forget where it began
it is not lost
it is collecting
and it knows we are listening
[Verse 2 (narrative, slightly faster rhythm)]
Angelo is gone from the floor now
they say they saw him last night
but the ceiling learned him gently
like a lullaby that never ends right
and now he answers when it hums
softly shifting overhead
like he’s trying to speak through plaster
but the walls keep it instead
[Hook Break (spoken list, childlike voices layered + distorted)]
(names whispered like a counting game)
Angelo…
Kevin…
Ricardo…
Juan…
Suzi…
and nine more still unnamed…
(whispers overlap until they become noise)
they are not gone
they are just above
[Pre-Chorus 2 (heavier distortion, rising choir)]
Mama…
mama…
don’t look up…
something is learning your rhythm
something is learning your breath
[Lost Transmission]
A recording was found in the vents
static wrapped around a child’s voice
it repeats the counting wrong now
like it learned to forget on purpose
“Angelo is not missing…”
“…he is just rearranged…”
and beneath the sentence
you can hear something correcting him
slowly
patiently
from inside the ceiling itself
[Final Chorus (full production, dramatic K-Pop horror drop)]
It walks above us, above us, above us
between the beams where the silence is thin
scraping names into the hollow dark
so it won’t forget where it began
it is not hunting
it is remembering
and we are what it remembers
[Outro (almost silent, distant doll voice)]
hello…
goodbye…
(a soft crawl sound fades into static)
ElCeviche
