Verse 1
Ghost towns of laughter where the memories still haunt,
faces I buried in the calendar’s endless taunt.
We swore we were iron, forged in the same flame,
now the rust eats the names and nothing remains.
I count every fracture, every silence I sold,
roads that diverged into permanent cold.
The mirror keeps score in merciless lines,
forty arrived like a blade between ribs and spine.
Pre-Chorus
Addition till forty — every year a new stone in the wall,
then subtraction devours, takes it back, takes it all.
Chorus (Hammer Refrain – huge, soaring, heartbreaking)
Everything burns faster than yesterday’s light,
what the world screams for today is tomorrow’s dead lie.
Hearts turn to numbers that the algorithm forgets,
and the reaper just smiles at the end of the set.
She’s gone — my forever, sealed behind the black veil,
trapped in the silence where even God fails.
I’m still here decaying in this violent machine,
subtracting, subtracting… down to the final scream.
No happy ending — only the Dead End, cold and clean.
Verse 2
Society sharpens its teeth on the weak and the kind,
every screen spits venom, every mouth draws a line.
Friends fall like spent shells on a battlefield floor,
names become dust on a digital shore.
Diseases creep in like uninvited rain,
joints whisper treason, the blood thickens with pain.
Bones shift, lungs tighten, the fire grows dim,
this flesh that once carried me now drags me to him.
Guitar Solo (Mid-song – 45-60 seconds of pure despair)
(Heavy, melodic, weeping lead guitar over crushing rhythm section. Starts with clean, haunting bends that sound like crying, then explodes into layered distorted harmonies, feedback howling like a dying animal, before slowing into single notes that feel like final heartbeats fading into reverb-drenched emptiness.)
Verse 3
She was the last color in a world turning gray,
now the afterlife holds her and won’t let me stay.
I scream at the ceiling, I claw at the veil,
but the divide is eternal, the sentence is jail.
Mistakes are the tattoos that time won’t erase,
every wrong turn a scar on the rest of my days.
The clock doesn’t tick — it devours, it steals,
and the Grim Reaper waits at the end of these wheels.
Bridge (spoken-sung, half-whispered over sparse piano and distant guitar feedback)
Nothing comes back.
Not the touch, not the laugh, not the years that I lack.
Life is addition… then merciless subtraction…
until zero stares back.
Final Chorus (even heavier, slower, voices layered like a funeral choir)
Everything burns faster than yesterday’s light,
what mattered this morning is already night.
The world grows more vicious, more hollow, more mean,
and I’m subtracting pieces of what I have been.
She’s gone — my forever, swallowed by the black,
I’m chained to this flesh while she never comes back.
No sunrise, no redemption, no merciful reprieve —
just the Dead End waiting…
and the Reaper…
grinning…
as I leave.
StormFire
