[Intro: Slow heartbeat bass, haunting synth drone] (Spoken, almost whispered, rhythmic) The frost of Kolyma. A razor in the dark. Shalamov leaves an invisible mark. Three weeks to turn a body to dust. An empire of snow. An empire of rust. [Beat drops, heavy and slow] Solzhenitsyn waits. The first dark ring. Listen to the silence. Listen to it sing. Through the marble and the blackest stone, We are marching in the static. Completely alone. [Bridge: Synths swelling, tension rising] They steal the names, they bury the sound. But the roots are growing underground. [Outro: Bass fading into freezing wind noise] Completely alone. In the static.
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