(vocal intro) Breathe... The island roars beneath my feet Salt in my veins Fire where words used to be Mountains bleed in silence Echoes grind through bone My throat becomes the siren Calling back what’s gone Every scar is granite scripture Every breath a vow reborn I am the storm that learned to whisper I am the wound that feeds the dawn ASH AND SEA COLLIDE INSIDE MY CHEST! I'M THE ECHO THAT REFUSES REST! Let the basalt break Let the shadows flee Sardinia screams (!) through me! SCREAMS THROUGH ME! Cork trees burn in memory Oceans hum in code History isn’t written It’s screamed in OVERLOAD! I TASTE THE IRON OF THE ISLAND RAIN! THE RHYTHM! THE HUNGER! THE ENDLESS CHAIN! We rise... We fall... We breathe... We burn Every silence waits its turn (In Sardinian, “tenùra” carries a texture that English can’t quite hold. It means resistance, endurance, the stubborn strength of something that refuses to break even when everything around it does. It’s the grip you don’t loosen, the breath you keep taking, the will that survives behind the ribs when the world turns harsh. Not loud, not violent.. persistent! Inside the song, “tenùra” becomes the spine of the narrator. It’s the island speaking through muscle and memory: the mountains that stand after centuries of wind, the sea that erodes but never retreats, the people who keep rising even after being split open by history and silence. "In the end, “Tenùra” is the voice of endurance itself a whispered storm, a wound that becomes strength, an island teaching a soul how to stay standing.") © 2025 - skvadMC
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