Fractals at the End of Time

[Verse 1]
Calendar cracked
Ink runs off the page
Clock hands spiral
Chewing through their cage
Sky hangs heavy
Like a verdict in the air
We drink the ashes
Pretend there’s nothing there
[Chorus]
These are the fractals at the end of time
Patterns repeating as the roots unwind
Hear your own footsteps in the marching line
Marching in circles
Calling it a sign (calling it a sign)
[Verse 2]
Cities like circuits
All the candles blown
Glass-lipped towers
Aching in their bones
Children count backwards
Under blinded suns
Every quiet whisper
Weighs a thousand guns
[Chorus]
These are the fractals at the end of time
Petals of poison on a rusted vine
Every small error in the grand design
Folding like prayer hands
Breaking at the spine (breaking at the spine)
[Bridge]
[Tribal breakdown
Toms and bass pulsing in a shifting pattern]
We built our thrones
On fault lines
(on fault lines)
We crowned our fears
As bloodlines
(as bloodlines)
We carved our names
In landmines
(in landmines)
Then taught our saints
To stay blind
(to stay blind)
[Chorus]
These are the fractals at the end of time
Choirs of sirens in a single mind
All of our footprints on the same decline
Falling in sequence
Calling it divine (calling it divine)
(Fractals at the end of time)
(calling it divine)

metal, Monolithic drone-metal with a Tool-adjacent pulse: downtuned, sustain-heavy guitars locked to a lead bass in an odd, cycling time feel. Kit leans into tom-heavy tribal breakdowns and staggered cymbal swells. Male vocals shift from hushed, poetic verses to layered, overlapping chant lines in the chorus, with distant choral harmonies and dissonant guitar swells widening the climax., poetic, drone metal, tone