Abstract’s “Voyager” does not tell a cohesive story about a person or a relationship. Buoyed by a recurrent guitar riff, Abstract speaks to an undefined other in wistful generalities, “You got a lot you could say/ You got some shopping to do/ You know I wanna hang out/ Sleep over with you” (Abstract). It’s unclear whether he is speaking to a prior lover, friend, or sibling. When the guitar riff makes a melodic surge, he suddenly (but softly) contextualizes these statements with, “And every summer with you has been a dream/ And every moment with you has been a dream” (Abstract). The earlier lines become ones of longing; the listener is plunged into nostalgia. The rawness of the guitar riff becomes the lilting heat of a summer sun.

As Abstract croons, “Ultraviolet,” and lingers on the last syllable— the chord changes, intimating a sudden rush of intense feeling. This can be interpreted as an expression of the emotion that exists inside him, but, like ultraviolet rays, cannot be seen. It can also be understood as an extension of his summer nostalgia—  the sun is a constant presence throughout the summer, covering everything in its ultraviolet rays. Abstract tells us that, “I cannot fight it” (Abstract). He cannot escape from the ultraviolet: his inner feelings of nostalgia. This is re-emphasized by his shift in tone— now more speaking than singing, he says, “For the first time I feel myself growing older/ Ah hey/ P told me that’s a breakthrough” (Abstract). He directly acknowledges his own aging process— attempting to reinterpret his nostalgia as a function of growth instead of loss by calling it a “breakthrough” (Abstract).

Abstract then repeats all of these lyrics, ending his song with a few new lines: “Agent of change and I prayed it would stick/ Agent of change and I'm losing my grip/ Don't mistake me for it/ Don't replace me for it” (Abstract). He describes how he is seemingly subservient to the changing times or “Agent of Change,” and “[prays]” that things will stay the same (Abstract). Still, he finds himself on the precipice of an imagined fall, “I’m losing my grip” (Abstract). This could be interpreted as him losing his grip on his youth, or even on life. Finally, he begs not to be mistaken or replaced, and the original guitar chord thrums until all sound fades.