The Sangrir & the Savage!

[Intro - The sound of a heavy velvet curtain being drawn, sharp snap of a dry branch in the woods. A haunting flute melody, played in a frantic minor key, a distorted, subterranean male growl] She drinks his silence... he breaks her peace. Two natures, like a coin, with one eternal hunger.

[Verse 1] She is the mistress of the still and the cold, With a beauty that never grows haggard or old. In the high-ceilinged parlor, she waits for the beast, Of a heart that she’ll silence with surgical heat. She doesn't need to muscle, she doesn't need to roar, She opens the soul like a swinging door. A predator draped in the finest lace, With a mask of perfection on a motionless face. (Eyes Full of Hate!)

[Chorus] The pulse of the vein and the snap of the bone, Two ancient powers on a path of their own! There’s no turning back when the instinct collides, The crypt and the den, the fang and the claw, One rings the chime, one tolls the bell! She is the shadow, he is the storm, In the heat of the hunt, they are reborn. A dance of the fangs and the silver-scarred hide, With nowhere for the spirit of mortal to hide! (Hallowed Shrine!)

[Verse 2] He is the thunder that rattles the glass, The shadow that ripples the tall meadow grass. A collision of sinew, of sweat, and fur, The chaotic response to the stillness in her. He lives for the chase, for the wind in his lungs, With a language of howls on a thousand black tongues. But his nature is rebellion, the spirit of the wild, Compared to the mistress, so polished and MILD!

[Chorus] The pulse of the vein and the snap of the bone, Two ancient powers on a path of their own! There’s no turning back when the instinct collides, The crypt and the den, the fang and the claw, One rings the chime, one tolls the bell! She is the shadow, he is the storm, In the heat of the hunt, they are reborn. A dance of the fangs and the silver-scarred hide, With nowhere for the spirit of mortal to hide! (Hallowed Shrine!)

[Bridge - massive, tectonic deathcore breakdown, The vocals are a guttural, terrifying roar] The calm of the coffin! The heat of the den! The feud of the gods is beginning again! She drinks of the essence! He crushes the shell! Two different roads to the very same hell! Sip the red! Tear the pelt! (GO!)

[Verse 3] She is the dagger, he is the sword, Together they walk on the razor’s own edge. One is the architect of the quiet decease, The other the bringer of violent release. A duality written in the mud & disease, Defined by the marrow and flow of the blood. Two forces of nature that should never meet, Until our transition is finally complete. And Our hate undone!

(Outro - solitary, mournful flute melody from the intro. The sound of a heavy stone lid sliding into place mingles with the fading, distant howl of a wolf] Sleep now... the moon is watching, waiting for an excuse with your final folly!