There it is—a quick, regular pulse, light and suspended, more current than shove.

Voice sits inside that motion: "The power lines connect our minds."

"We pulse, collide, and bind with everything"—the vocal still riding the same narrow channel.

Warm middle weight under "The power lines ignite our lives," surface still uncluttered.

"The sparks that we can see," and the groove just keeps sending the signal forward.

Waiting turns personal—"I thought you would send me a letter"—without the beat dramatizing it.

Just "These power lines," carried by the track’s own wiring.

Same steadiness back under a wider frame: "The power lines in modern times."

Heal or destroy—then the small hard question, "Where does your intent lie?"

"I thought you would help make it better" lands against that same unbroken current.

Two plain hits of "These power lines," no speech-making around them.

Everyone you know "in their bunker too, seeking a way through"—still walking on the pulse.

Low end gathers again under the same path while "everyone you meet needs some kindness now."

"What are you gonna do when the next move is up to you?"—responsibility riding the beat, not stopping it.

A little break in the pattern, then it comes back brighter.

Late return shifts the thought outward: "I thought we could help make it better."

"Close this switch and flood the world with light"—lift toward repair, kept clean and brief.

The count loosens; the carried motion finally lets go.