Intro Mold me... Mold me... Mold me... Mold me... Mold me... Mold me... Verse 1 Force me, from the cinders and decay, Where the old gods shatter, turned to hollow shells. Grind me, let the silence scream, In the hollow where the spirit's weak. Verse 2 The sky is a canvas, bruised and torn, No guiding star, no form cast From hands that once reached, or voices that called, Just the heavy quiet, where hope itself stalled. Pre-Chorus And the river runs, a desperate plea, Through the riven earth, relentlessly. A pulse beneath the ruin, a violent tremor in the deep, Secrets the broken stones struggle to keep. Chorus Rising from the burning, a figure takes hold, More than flesh and bone, a story yet untold. The sound of a hero, not a trumpet, but a hum, Whispering, "Who will save us, when we are the tide?" Post-Chorus Mold me, mold me, through the breaking. Mold me, mold me, for the waking. Verse 3 No grand design, no distant light, Just scattered remnants, and endless night. The whispered hope, a gasping sound, Until the answer, here, was found. Pre-Chorus And the river runs, a driving force, Through shattered dreams, charting a new course. A quiet swell, deep inside, Where courage can no longer hide. Chorus Rising from the burning, a collective takes hold, More than flesh and bone, a future to unfold. The sound of a hero, not a trumpet, but a roar, Whispering, "Who will save us? We are the fire!" Post-Chorus Mold me, mold me, through the breaking. Mold me, mold me, for the waking. Mold me, mold me, for the light!
