(Verse 1 – Mara) In the dead of the silent hour, when the last candle burns low and even the forest forgets to breathe, the old stories say Mara walks without footsteps. She slips between dreams like winter through broken walls, seeking those whose hearts still race beneath uneasy sleep. They say she sits upon the sleeping, stealing every breath until terror itself becomes the only voice left in the room. And when the night grows colder than the world outside, you finally feel her weight... Mara sits upon my chest, cold as a river stone. My breath grows thin among the reeds, and sleep turns its face to bone. She leans through the doorway of my dreams, wrapped in borrowed night, one hand around my racing heart, one thread pulling me deeper into the dark. (Chorus) Mara... Mara... Hold me down... Mara... Mara... Breathe the dark... (hold me down) Mara... Mara... Steal my sleep... Mara... Mara... Until the morning comes. (Verse 2 – Alkonost) Beyond the haunted forest, where the first light settles over forgotten orchards and silver rivers carry songs older than memory, another legend waits upon the morning wind. The old tales speak of Sirin, whose voice can drown the heart in sorrow, and of Alkonost, whose laughter heals what grief has broken. Those who hear her often forget who they were for just a moment, only to find themselves again beneath the warmth of her wings. At sunrise Sirin weeps among the apple trees. By noon Alkonost comes laughing through the leaves. Dew falls from her feathers, every wounded branch begins to bloom, and for one beautiful heartbeat I forget my own name before remembering it again. (Chorus) Alkonost... Alkonost... Sing my soul... Alkonost... Alkonost... Make me whole... (sing for me) Alkonost... Alkonost... Heal the dawn... Alkonost... Alkonost... Till the night is gone. (Verse 3 – Vodyanoy) Along forgotten rivers where abandoned mills still turn beneath the moon, fishermen leave bread, old coins and tobacco beside the banks, for they know the water has a master. Deep beneath the black current waits the Vodyanoy, his tangled green beard drifting with the weeds, his eyes watching every careless traveler who lingers too close. They say the river always asks for payment. By the reeds he waits beneath a crown of rushes. The old dam groans when he stirs, and the water reaches slowly for my feet. Leave him bread. Leave him bone. Keep your voice low upon the bank... or the flood will learn your name. (Chorus) Vodyanoy... Vodyanoy... Call the flood... Vodyanoy... Vodyanoy... Taste my blood... (down below) Vodyanoy... Vodyanoy... Keep your due... Vodyanoy... Vodyanoy... Or he'll come for you. (Verse 4 – Krampus) When the first snow buries the mountain paths and the church bells echo across silent valleys, another figure walks behind the saint. Children whisper his name only after the candles have burned low, for Krampus remembers every lie that winter tried to hide. Wrapped in heavy fur, crowned with twisted horns, carrying iron chains and a sack for the wicked, he follows the footsteps of those who thought their sins had been forgotten. Then I hear the chains outside my door. Horns carve the frozen air. He counts each promise I have broken, and every step comes closer. By the time he reaches me, there is nowhere left to run. (Chorus) Krampus... Krampus... Ring the chain... Krampus... Krampus... Bring the pain... (hear the bells) Krampus... Krampus... Count my sin... Krampus... Krampus... Let the hunt begin. (Bridge) The old world never truly vanished. It only learned to hide beneath the forests, the rivers, the mountains and the snow. Every forgotten name still waits for someone willing to speak it aloud. Listen closely, and the wind still carries their voices. The witch beneath the pines. The bird of dawn. The king below the waters. The beast that walks beside the bells. Four forgotten legends. Four ancient powers. Bound together by the oldest magic the world has ever known. (Final Chorus) Speak the names... Speak the names... Mara... Alkonost... Vodyanoy... Krampus... Old magic wakes... Old magic wakes... Forest, river, sky and snow... Ancient legends never go.
