
They say the Mnemonic Null feeds on the seconds we never notice—the half‑remembered phone number, the face we can’t quite place. This song follows one doomed witness as those tiny gaps widen into a cavern of silence. Verse by verse, his childhood memories peel away; the chorus is the sound of his own biography being overwritten. Keep count of every time the beat stutters—each skip marks another page torn from his mind. Speak the forgotten birth‑name three times while you listen… if you dare.
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