Midnight Pulse Echo

Tekst utworu

[Intro – distant Clicker-like clicking] tk-tk... krr-tk... tk-tk-tk... (irregular, organic clicking in the darkness) [Verse 1] Black salt beneath a silver tongue, Thirteen moons where one belonged. Ash remembers what fire forgets, Names dissolve beneath the thread. Roots entwine with borrowed bones, Silence grows where truth was sown. Every blessing leaves a stain, Every cure inherits pain. [Pre-Chorus] Crows above a crooked sky, Three knocks underneath the rhyme. Waxen mouths and iron eyes— Nothing buried ever dies. [clicking gradually intensifies] tk—tk-tk—krrr—tk-tk... [Chorus] Witch-blood sleeping in the water, Moonlight bleeding through the scars. Crow-wing shadows carry names That never reach the lips of stars. Between the curse and consecration, No sacred ground remains. What takes root beneath the darkness Learns to blossom through the pain. [Verse 2] Thorns remember every hand, Charcoal circles mark the land. Silver fractures, crimson thread, Crowns are woven from the dead. Beneath the skin, beneath the prayer, Something ancient fills the air. Not salvation, not despair— Only patterns everywhere. [Bridge – sparse instrumentation] tk... tk... krrr-tk... uneven Clicker-like chittering Seven candles lose their flame, Seven mirrors shift their shape. Every doorway knows the cost, Every circle hides what's lost. [Breakdown] [clicking suddenly becomes frantic] TK-TK-TK—KRRR-TK—TK-TK-TK THIRTEEN KNOTS. NONE UNBOUND. EVERY CURSE BECOMES THE GROUND. [one final distorted click] [Final Chorus] Witch-blood sleeping in the water, Moonlight bleeding through the scars. Crow-wing shadows carry names That never reach the lips of stars. Between the curse and consecration, No sacred ground remains. What is buried feeds the root. What is silenced grows a voice.