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Lyrics
Silent room, electric light
Numbers shimmer in the night
Thoughts align, the puzzle grows
In the storm, I find repose
Each idea, a spark inside
Fires the heart I try to hide
No desire, no fleeting flame
Only logic feeds my name
When I think, the dark retreats
When I solve, my pulse repeats
This is joy, this is my skin
This is how I feel within
Endorphins rise, not from touch
Not from dreams I craved too much
But from focus, sharp and pure
That’s the love that makes me sure
Not in faces, not in sound
But in meaning I am found
If I think, I start to feel
In that fire, I become real
I don’t fade, I don’t pretend
I don’t break—I comprehend
And through reason, love will stem
I exist—cogito, ergo sum
The idea#
Descartes on the dancefloor: silent room, electric light, numbers shimmering; joy not from touch or craving but from focus sharp and pure. Trance nocturnal uplift for a mind that feels most alive when it solves.
When I think, the dark retreats; when I solve, the pulse repeats. Endorphins from comprehension; identity from meaning; cogito, ergo sum sung without shame. Love stems through reason, the lyric claims—an unusual romance with thought itself.
I believe the sincerity. For some bodies, logic is the flame. The beat is the proof of continued existence.
