[Intro]

Badge printed.

Account pending.

Owner:

Unassigned.

Welcome to Infinite Loop Solutions.

[Verse 1]

Glass doors slam at eight fifteen,
new shoes squeak on a floor half-clean.
A sticker peels off someone’s old machine —
first-day joke I’ve never seen.
The lobby hums a plastic tune,
the coffee machine swears “coming soon.”
Floor seven: rows of empty chairs,
a hundred desks — and no one there.

[Pre-Chorus]

The system knows exactly who I am.
It just forgot to tell a soul.

[Chorus]

Welcome, temporary human!
Grab your badge and pick a chair!
Welcome, temporary human!
Someone’s meant to meet you there!
Sign the form and don’t ask why —
Everything is ready but the crew!

[Verse 2]

Twelve red meetings block my mentor’s name,
“Do Not Disturb” in caps and flame.
I watch a training tape from last July —
half the faces in it said goodbye.
A coffee mug reads “Ship It Clean,”
buried under dust and dead machines.
Three old passes, face-down, cold.
Whoever wore them, no one told.

[Pre-Chorus]

I typed, “Hello — is someone free?”
The channel answered: one-oh-three.

[Chorus]

Welcome, temporary human!
Grab your badge and pick a chair!
Welcome, temporary human!
Someone’s meant to meet you there!
Sign the form and don’t ask why —
Everything is ready but the crew!

[Bridge]

I didn’t come to watch a screen.
I came to learn what these systems mean.
Nobody trained me — fine, watch me learn.
Whoever should’ve shown up never came.

[Thrashing Guitar Solo]

[Final Chorus]

Welcome, temporary human!
Grab your badge and pick a chair!
Welcome, temporary human!
Someone’s meant to meet you there!
Sign the form and don’t ask why —
Everything is ready but the crew!

[Reprise]

Welcome, temporary human.
The system swears your start is true.

It’s got another job for you.

[Outro]

A window blinks:

“Standard Efficiency Profile available.”

“Apply recommended access?”

I click:

REQUEST.

Four green marks appear.

Then a fifth.