Beneath cold iron The vapour wakes A silent hunter That never breaks Pampa’s night Three men fell Their skin turned to smoke Their last farewell Lively’s road Two hearts stopped cold They drove into death And never grew old The unseen takes What the living hold Names erased In the burning cold No monument stands No final word Only the silence Of those who burned Nelson’s yard One man alone The cylinder wept And claimed his bone Forty-six percent Gone in the flash He fought the night Then joined the ash The unseen takes What the living hold Names erased In the burning cold No monument stands No final word Only the silence Of those who burned Michigan sky A canister flew Struck the young blood At nineteen too Four hundred metres From the raging core One life ended On the warehouse floor Anaheim’s fire Four bodies scarred Helmets and flesh Forever marked Every lab Every leaking seam Writes the same verse In the same black dream The unseen takes What the living hold Names erased In the burning cold No monument stands No final word Only the silence Of those who burned The vapour sleeps… But the silence stays… The dead still breathe In the black flame’s gaze…
