[Style: Slow, grinding Doom Metal with atmospheric and psychedelic elements] (Song Title: The Fog) [Intro] [A low, distorted, detuned guitar riff begins, incredibly slow and heavy. It feels like moving through thick mud. A faint, high-pitched, dissonant sound, like tinnitus, fades in and out.] [Verse 1] (The Afflicted - a new character, vocals are a strained, weary groan, almost a spoken-word lament) There is a fog that has no name A creeping, suffocating flame It's not in the sky, it's not in the air It's the static inside a blank stare My thoughts are ghosts, my words are slow Nowhere to run, nowhere to go The microglia, a burning fire Consuming memory and desire [Chorus] (The Afflicted and a distant, ethereal Choir) This is the fog, the endless gray That steals the light of yesterday A lactate tide, a poisoned haze Lost inside a mental maze A zombie cell that will not die And whispers a forgotten lie This is the fog, the coming dread The silent war inside my head [Verse 2] (The Afflicted) The gut, a traitor, brews a storm Of toxins that are not the norm Hydrogen sulfide, a phantom breath That promises a living death Ammonia's kiss, a sweet decay That eats the energy of the day The barrier breaks, the poison seeps And while the body wakes, the spirit sleeps [Chorus] (The Afflicted and a distant, ethereal Choir) This is the fog, the endless gray That steals the light of yesterday A lactate tide, a poisoned haze Lost inside a mental maze A zombie cell that will not die And whispers a forgotten lie This is the fog, the coming dread The silent war inside my head [Bridge] [The music becomes more psychedelic and disorienting. The slow riff is joined by strange, swirling guitar effects and a pulsing, hypnotic bassline.] (The Afflicted) The glutamate, a screaming sound As all my circuits come unwound Excitotoxicity's embrace I can't keep up with the frantic pace The world is loud, the world is bright A victim of the endless light My mind is buffering, buffering... ...buffering... nothing... [Outro] [The music grinds to a halt. All that remains is the high-pitched tinnitus sound and the Afflicted's ragged breathing.] (The Afflicted - whispering) The fog... is... me... And I... am... the fog... (The tinnitus fades to silence.) [End]
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