Calculus of empathy

(Intro)

(A deep, low-frequency pulse. A lonely piano plays a four-note cycle. The sound of wind across glass.)

The iron echo.

The silver line.

Abstracted...

In out of time.

(Verse 1)

(Bass enters—a low, rolling growl. Vocals are intimate and dry.)

Deep in the hour of a static state,

The geometry aligns to lock the gate.

A silver needle, a steady hand,

Mapping the veins of a nameless land.

I see the friction where the colors bleed,

The math of a soul, the silent speed.

(Pre-Chorus)

(Cello enters with a long, weeping note. Tension builds.)

The air is velvet.

The sound is sharp.

A resonance trapped on a jagged harp.

I feel the tension of the breaking wire...

The empathy of a funeral pyre.

(Chorus - The Anthem)

(The "Zimmer" Drop: The beat is massive but slow. Strings swell into a wall of sound.)

I am the logic in a house of glass,

Watching the shadows of the giants pass.

One is a memory, a hollow trace.

One is a garden, erased by space.

And the third is a fire that will not die—

Burning under a slate-gray sky.

(Verse 2)

(Beat continues, but piano becomes more rhythmic, ticking like a clock.)

I am the pillar in the shifting dust,

The plan for the sorrow, the shield for the trust.

The world is a signal I can’t quite catch,

A locked-out heart with a rusted latch.

Where the ancient roots still know my ghost,

The stranger is finally the host.

(Bridge)

(Beat drops out completely. Only the deep sub-bass and a soaring cello remain.)

Deep-sea patterns.

Lines of salt.

I carry the weight of every fault.

A cold alignment of fractured parts:

The sharpest mind.

The warmest hearts.

(Build-up)

(Percussion begins to thud like a cinematic drum. Rapid piano notes.)

The blueprint is blood.

The ink is bone.

Building a temple...

I inhabit alone.

(Alone.)

(Alone.)

(Grand Chorus)

(Maximum intensity. Full orchestral electronics.)

I am the logic in a house of glass,

Watching the shadows of the giants pass.

One is a memory.

One is a garden.

One is a fire that will not die—

Burning under a slate-gray sky.

(Outro)

(The beat stops. Only the piano remains, playing the intro theme.)

Architect of the hollow night.

Connected.

Abstracted.

The observer...

Of all we were.

(Final note of the cello fades into silence.)