The Synaptic Frontier

Also released as: Remix

Intro

Ahhh...
Come in. Come in.

Verse 1

Somebody built a radio out of arithmetic.
No crystal, no copper, no dial to turn.
Now every wave is a number we can write down,
And any number at all is a wave we can learn.

So the sky is an instrument nobody has played yet.
Every station that could be, still unmade.
Ten thousand million channels and we've opened almost none —
And the quiet ones are where the good things hide.

Pre-Chorus

And a mind is a field. A mind is a storm.
There's a current in the bone and it's already awake.
So there's a number somewhere that a thought would answer to.
We just haven't written it yet. We will.

Chorus

The frontier is a frequency.
It's out there in the noise.
Somewhere on the dial there's a door that isn't found yet,
Where a bit becomes a wave becomes a voice.
The frontier is a frequency —
And somebody alive right now
is going to find it.

Verse 2

So we crawl up the spectrum with a waterfall and a guess,
Watching bright lines rise where the silence used to be.
Everything is leaking — every screen, every skull —
We just don't have the receiver yet. Not yet.

Down at the noise floor, under everything that's known,
There's a channel running straight to the dark behind the eye.
Nobody has tuned it. Nobody has built the front end.
But it's there. It was always there.

Chorus

Bridge

We will not hear a siren when it happens.
There won't be a headline. There won't be a date.
Just somebody in a room with a laptop and an antenna
Turning something on —
and a stranger, somewhere,
feeling a thought arrive that isn't theirs.

And after that,
there is no such thing as far away.

Final Chorus

Outro

Bit to the spectrum. Spectrum to bone.
Number to wave, and the wave finds a home.
Keep turning the dial...
Keep turning the dial...
Come in.

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