[Verse 1] In the dark where the lost do linger, Sleeps the Mother of every finger, Cradle of tongues, of blind-born grace, Veiled in silence, none see her face. Deep 'neath the land, in rot she lay, Where stars forget the light of day, Whispers form in limbs of pale, Calling forth from the unseen veil. [Chorus] O Metyr, Mother of Fingers, rise, Writhe beneath the godless skies. Cracked is the shell where the truth once clung, Speak through the fingers, though thou hast no tongue. Cursed be the hand that dares unmake, The will thou weaves for fates to break. Thy brood shall bloom in seeping dread, From quiet womb where stars have bled. [Verse 2] Ancient birth from truths untold, Too foul, too vast, too still, too old. The Two Fingers once praised thy name, Now cower in mockery and shame. The Tarnished come with blade in hand, Not knowing what they misunderstand. But you, O Matron of the Pale, Watch them fall as dreamers fail. [Bridge] No eye, no mouth, yet all can see, Through twitch and coil, prophecy. Her children writhe, her whispers crawl, Through every gate, past every wall. [Chorus – Reprise] O Metyr, Mother of Fingers, wake, The Erdtree trembles, roots shall quake. In lands between where madness clings, Thy love shall reign through broken things. [Outro] So sleep once more, O mother veiled, Till stars are cracked and gods have failed. Then shall thy brood in full arise— Ten thousand fingers blot the skies.
