[Intro]

Remove what nobody needs.
Friday, half past six.
One wall. A thousand yellow slips.
Keep the work. Cut the weight.

[Verse]

Each note once claimed a purpose.
Now we ask what work it feeds.
My black book opens, cream and worn:
Every feature, every form.

Some were built for one old deal.
Some outlived the deal they served.
No one owns them. No one leaves.
The user pays for what we keep.

[Pre-Chorus]

Keeping everything feels safe
Until a simple task gains weight.
A product stalls beneath the load
When every relic gets a vote.

[Chorus]

Remove what nobody needs.
Leave the work and lose the weight.
Keep the path that earns its place;
Cut the parts that block the page.
Put the action back in sight.
Give the user back the choice.

[Verse]

We cut the duplicate report.
We merge the long and shorter forms.
The legal archive leaves the path
That every daily invoice takes.

Client skins become one theme,
Built from Orbit, shared and clean.
Nine old tabs reduce to four.
The hidden menu disappears.

[Chorus]

Remove what nobody needs.
Every element must answer
Whom it helps and what it changes,
Why it occupies the page.
Leave enough room around the task
To see what happens next.

[Acoustic Interlude]

[Heavy Breakdown]

Keep the invoice.
Keep the name.
Keep the warning.
Show the change.

[Bridge]

Keep the current record visible.
Keep the action near the hand.
Lose the clever hidden shortcut
Only former staff understand.

[Final Chorus]

Remove what nobody needs.
Four clear routes replace nine tabs.
Each screen supports a task;
The task can reach its end.
No ornament steals attention.
Remove what nobody needs.

[Outro]

I fold the black book halfway shut.
One final list remains to make.
One clean note stays in the room:
Remove what nobody needs.
