[Intro] Wipers lose the argument with the rain. Headlights carve a tunnel that does not keep. Radio dies mid-sentence. Engine keeps its vow. One mile left that should not still exist. [Verse 1][Verse 2][Bridge / Breakdown] Strip it down to heartbeat and low end. No speech. No crown. No borrowed proof. Only the cabin and the ones who refuse to fold. Only the mile that outlives the cold. [Final Chorus] Phantom mile — cut through the black hour. Phantom mile — we are the voltage it answers. If the night wants a body, it can take mine; the cabin stays lit — this is the line. Phantom mile — hold when the tires go under. Phantom mile — thunder is just another drummer. We drive until the sky runs out of knives — and the mile is still alive. [Outro] Dawn is a rumor. We do not wait for it. The glass drips rain like a new kind of blood. Stoodstrong. Still rolling. Still ours. Second stretch — thicker weather, thinner mercy. The Arcane Verse is the breath you steal back when the lungs already said goodbye. Someone shouts turn around. The highway does not care. I laugh once, raw, because fear ran out of room and the bass still walks the floorboards like a living thing. [Pre-Chorus] If this is the last honest mile we get, then let the storm learn our names the hard way. Stoodstrong in the cabin. No soft prayer left. Hell can take the rest — it will not take this hour. [Chorus] Phantom mile — cut through the black hour. Phantom mile — we are the voltage it answers. If the night wants a body, it can take mine; the cabin stays lit, telephantix line. Phantom mile — hold when the tires go under. Phantom mile — thunder is just another drummer. We drive until the sky runs out of knives — and the mile is still alive. Blackout coast — every lamp post a dead witness. Asphalt hisses like a throat that swallowed glass. Someone in the backseat counts the flashes between strikes. I taste copper and salt and unfinished midnight. Behind us: the exit we already burned. Ahead: a span of dark that wants a body. Still the wheel bites my palms. Still we roll. [Pre-Chorus] If this is the last honest mile we get, then let the storm learn our names the hard way. Stoodstrong in the cabin. No soft prayer left. Hell can take the rest — it will not take this hour. [Chorus] Phantom mile — cut through the black hour. Phantom mile — we are the voltage it answers. If the night wants a body, it can take mine; the cabin stays lit, telephantix line. Phantom mile — hold when the tires go under. Phantom mile — thunder is just another drummer. We drive unt
