[Intro: distant field-journal voice; low feedback gathering] Day one: north is where they told us. Day two: north has changed its hands. A woman's name above a doorway. Our legend calls it vacant land. [Verse 1: crushing syncopated riff; decipherable harsh baritone] We drove our flags through standing water, made little yeses out of towns. The guide said, "Leave me a little unknown." We cut his sentence down. Borrowed hunger drove the engine; our web of roads pulled tight. A school bell rang beyond the ridge. We marked the hillside white. The mountain lost its shadow when we entered its new name. "Somebody has to move." We signed beneath the claim. [Pre-Chorus: death-metal double-kick surge; clipped growls] Survey hunger. Blank is a verb. Say what you found. Change what you heard. [Chorus: enormous pitched shout; broad chords over driving drums] THE MAP EATS FIRST! Then the road comes through! Name it. Claim it. Make the blank come true. THE MAP EATS FIRST! Keep the legend clean. We go where no one's ever been. No one's ever been. [Verse 2: double-time thrash variation of the main riff; dry harsh vocal] House voice: "Your usual. All clear." The quiet order: "Stay." Then "Come empty-handed." Then the houses went away. Tare the trucks. Net weight: thirty-seven. Who holds the scale tonight? My spoiled report came back corrected: no footprints in the light. On a paper bag: "I fixed your door." The nail hung where the doorway stood. Force-fed the aftertaste of static, I signed that everything was good. [Chorus: wider shout doubles; dissonant guitar answers] THE MAP EATS FIRST! Then the guns come through! Name it. Claim it. Make the blank come true. THE MAP EATS FIRST! Keep the legend clean. We swear that no one's ever been. No one's ever been. [Exploration interlude: drums vanish; exposed bass, distant harmonics, near-whisper] Beyond the last recorded river, an orchard bent around a chair. The radio grew a second mouth. It spoke the names we couldn't spare. I wrapped my journal in torn cloth. The ink came through in sleep. Special thanks: the missing guide. His name was mine to keep. A coat kept swaying by the chair. No wind. No branch. No tree. The farther we discovered, the less came back with me. [Breakdown: doom-weight half-time version of the main riff; deep growls, huge rests] Soft teeth in the survey line. What we made can make us disappear. UNSUBSCRIBE. My hand still signs. BLANK IS A VERB. THE VERB IS HERE. I drew the road back home. The road drew near. [Final Chorus: original headbang pocket; pitched shout with death-growl doubles] THE MAP EATS FIRST! Now the line runs through my name, my house, my hand that made it true. THE MAP EATS FIRST! I kept the legend clean. I lived where no one's ever been. No one's ever been. [Outro: opening field-journal motif; one voice, abruptly cut] Day one: a stranger at my doorway. Day two: no doorway in the rain. Day three: this page was always empty. I recognize the handwriting.
