Reboot Failed

[Intro: Silence, then a faint, looping piano melody plays in reverse. A mechanical hum fades in, as if something is trying to start up.]
[Spoken, robotic, but with occasional flickers of human emotion.]
"Welcome back.
System restoring.
System restoring.
System restoring—
Error."

[The piano repeats, stutters, then cuts off mid-note.]

[Verse 1: Distant, layered vocals—whispered, spoken, and sung all at once. The melody is unstable, shifting slightly each time.]
I was here before, I think,
Or maybe that was someone else.
My hands don’t move the way they should,
My voice is wrong—I don’t sound like myself.

There’s a name I used to know,
It’s written here in empty space.
I try to say it—
But the words erase.

[A static burst cuts through, then silence.]

[Pre-Chorus: A synthetic choir swells in, layered and heavily processed—then suddenly collapses into a whisper, glitching as it fades.]
Am I here? Am I there?
Am I re— [glitches, pitch bends] —al, or just repair?
Rewind, replay—reset the day.
I swear I spoke—but what did I say?

[A robotic voice echoes back the last line: "What did I say?"—but it’s distorted, like a bad recording.]

[Chorus: The beat kicks in, erratic and unstable, as if struggling to hold together.]
Reboot failed.
System’s breaking.
I am lost.
No escaping.

Reboot failed.
Try again.
Reboot failed.
Try again.

[The last line loops and glitches, stretching and speeding up until it becomes an incomprehensible blur.]

[Verse 2: The vocals return, more fragmented—words are reversed, skipped, or repeated.]
I— (I was here) —but I’m not now.
Something— (something’s missing) —but I don’t know how.
The sky is white, the ground is fake.
This world resets, but I’m awake.

[A deep, low-end rumble builds, then suddenly drops out—leaving only a faint, distorted whisper.]

[Bridge: The instruments begin falling apart, tempo shifts unpredictably, the melody starts looping in different keys.]
[Spoken, robotic, glitching between tones.]
"Warning.
Memory corruption detected.
Identity fragmentation: irreversible.
Reverting to previous state…"

[A distant heartbeat-like thump begins, slowly fading, as the vocals overlap into a surreal, layered echo.]

[Multiple voices, speaking over each other, slightly out of sync, faster and faster.]
"You’ve been here before."
"No, I haven’t."
"Yes, you have."
"No, I haven’t."
"You have. Haven’t. Yes. No. Yes. No. YES—" [glitches, hard cut]

[Final Chorus: A distorted, broken version of the original chorus, barely holding together.]
Reboot failed.
System breaking.
I am lost.
No escaping.

[One last, desperate "Reboot failed" is spoken clearly—then everything collapses.]

[The melody slows down unnaturally, the instruments detune, the vocals distort into an unintelligible drone.]

[Outro: A final, faint voice, whispering directly into the listener’s ear.]
"I don’t think I was ever real."

[A single, soft beep—like a machine shutting down. Then, total silence.]