[Verse 1] A man walks where the atlas drowned— Silent cities, frostbound sound. His breath carves epitaphs in air, Thermal suit patched with doubt and prayer. The wolves he talks to ain’t got names, Just ice-chip eyes and nuclear veins. He grinds his teeth to hymns of old— "The world died warm," or so he’s told. [Pre-Chorus] CHOIR: (—colder, colder—) The storm’s a sermon, sharp and loud, His shadow’s the only thing left unshrouded. [Chorus] Minus one hundred —sky’s jagged tongue, His heart’s a revolver, misfiring ONE. The blizzard chants, "You’ll never be found," But he laughs raw… ’til the laugh drowns. CHOIR: (—colder, colder—) [Verse 2] He digs up graves for battery acid, Drinks the sparks… calls it "practical magic." A locket glows with a face erased, Her voice? Static in a grenade’s embrace. The crows bring news of colder nights— They peck his palms for half-eaten light. He trades his blood for diesel’s hum, The road’s a noose… and he’s still on the run. [Pre-Chorus] CHOIR: (—colder, colder—) The wind’s a blade, the moon’s a hole, His compass spins, accusing "Soul?" [Chorus] Minus one hundred —lungs scream "WHY?" His veins map roads where highways die. The blizzard croons, "You’re almost home," But "home’s" a word he broke for bones. CHOIR: (—colder, colder—) [Bridge] He finds a flare gun, rust and dread, Points it north… shoots the sky dead. The aurora bleeds in toxic streaks, A carnival of ghosts with nothing to eat. CHOIR: (—colder, colder—) The cold whispers, "You knew her name— She’s ash in a jar… with no one to blame." CHOIR: (—colder, colder—) [Chorus (Reprise)] Minus one hundred —time’s a flat line, His hands clutch nothing … but the grind feels divine. The blizzard vows, "This is all you’ll be," He smirks at the void… Then it smirks back at he.