[Intro — distant feedback, pulsing bass, 7/8]
[Whispered, almost spoken]
Count backward from the first lie.
Before the book.
Before the bone.
Before they taught the stars to keep quiet.
[Verse 1 — bass/drums only, guitar slowly enters]
I found a clock beneath the dirt,
with neither hand nor face,
buried deeper than the names
we carved upon this place.
A spiral scratched into the stone,
a language without breath,
older than the garden,
older than our death.
They measured skulls and numbered dust,
then locked the crooked key.
Built a fence around the question:
What were we meant to see?
[Pre-Chorus — tension rising, polyrhythmic drums]
Pull the thread.
Watch heaven tear.
There’s something underneath it there.
[Chorus — huge guitars, half-time]
We are the echo before the sound,
the missing years beneath the ground.
A borrowed spark, a severed line—
something moved outside of time.
[Backing vocal: “Outside… outside…”]
They drew a beginning where none could be,
then sold their version of history.
But every star behind my eyes
keeps whispering—
you were told a lie.
[Instrumental — 9/8, tribal toms, distorted bass]
[Guitar builds from clean harmonics into dissonant riff]
[Verse 2 — restrained vocal]
Black rooms humming underground,
paper suns and nameless men.
Burn the photograph, erase the date,
then teach the children once again.
Perhaps the gods were visitors.
Perhaps the visitors were us.
Perhaps a million shattered worlds
are sleeping in our blood.
[Whispered]
Or perhaps…
we simply forgot.
[Breakdown — crushing 4/4 against 3/4 percussion]
TIME IS NOT A LINE.
TIME IS NOT A LINE.
TIME IS NOT—
[STOP]
[Single bass note]
—ours.
[Bridge — psychedelic, slowly expanding]
If light remembers everything,
then somewhere every moment stays.
The first hand reaching from the dark,
the first eye opening into space.
So turn the telescope around.
Don’t search the heavens anymore.
The oldest unexplored universe
is hiding behind the door.
[Final Chorus — explosive, layered vocals]
We are the echo before the sound,
the buried temple upside down.
A chromosome, a crooked sign,
a fingerprint outside of time.
They drew the borders, named the sky,
classified the how and why.
But truth survives where secrets die—
between the stars…
[Long pause]
…and behind our eyes.
[Outro — slow, ominous bass / tribal drums fading]
[Whisper]
Maybe creation never happened.
Maybe…
it keeps happening.