[Intro] [piano: two notes too far apart] [violin: a long gray tone that doesn’t resolve] [8-bit ice ticking like a broken clock] [Choir, hummed] Ah—ah—ah— the leftover has teeth. [Verse 1] [sung, low] The dragons tore and took their names Truth went one way, Ideal the other A gray thing sat down in the wound And learned to be the weather I followed cold across the chasm I thought I found a door I didn’t hear the absence gather I only asked for more [Pre-Chorus] [violin climbing, piano answering late] Don’t bless the husk that finds you Don’t praise the ice that waits It only loves the living meaning Still leaking from your chest [Chorus] [lead + choir] Kyurem, Kyurem Saint of the hollow mile You wear a split like Sunday clothes And smile a vacant smile Kyurem, Kyurem Mercy made of none You teach the lost to want a purpose Then prove there isn’t one [Verse 2] They find them kneeling in the gray With breath that will not thaw Their mouths still shaped around a creed The ice already saw White fire can preach. Black bolt can swear. This circle will not choose A little 8-bit hymn still ticks Inside a body missing two [Pre-Chorus] Don’t look too long into the seam Where truth and ideal tore If you can name what you believe You’re already the war [Chorus] Kyurem, Kyurem Saint of the hollow mile You wear a split like Sunday clothes And smile a vacant smile Kyurem, Kyurem Mercy made of none You teach the lost to want a purpose Then prove there isn’t one [Verse 3] [quieter, violin almost alone] It doesn’t hunt along the ground It hunts the need to mean It waits until you pick a side Then shows you the between Glaciate the sermon shut A stone of ice for lungs It is not winter. It is leftover. It is what the world becomes [Bridge] [spoken, dry, over one piano key] Reshiram took the light and left. Zekrom took the vow and left. You prayed to be completed. It heard “fill the hole.” Fusion is not a blessing. It is the leftover learning your name so it can wear a second mouth. [Drop] [no drop — cells of ice stacking, choir flat] Hollow. Hollow. Hollow. Split. Ice Burn if you borrow light. Freeze Shock if you borrow fight. The saint does not pick a side. The saint is the side they abandoned. [Final Chorus] [piano, violin, choir, chiptune — still not triumphant] Kyurem, Kyurem Saint of the hollow mile You wear a world with something missing And smile a funeral smile Kyurem, Kyurem Say it if you dare The chasm bows. The gray looks down. It already knows you’re there. [Outro] [piano thinning, violin last, one ice-crack] [Lead] If the cold begins to carry A voice you almost know— [Choir] Don’t finish it.
