[INTRO — distant electrical hum, dying transmission, something metallic dragging across stone] static... There was a voice... Before the body. static fizzles There was a thought... Before the grave. static pops And beneath the skin... Something still listened. [VERSE I — painfully slow, crushing sludge riff] She opened the skull To find the door. She found the dark Was listening more. Bone on the table. Wire in the brain. A little more pressure. A little more pain. static hisses The scholars called her brilliant. The priests called her damned. The dead called her closer. And she... She took their hands. [INSTRUMENTAL — slow, dragging riff; feedback and distant mechanical groaning] The signal is weak. The signal is waiting. The signal remembers. The signal is hungry. [VERSE II — vocals deeper, almost spoken] Black machine. Dead light. Whispering through the night. The Final Signal. The last transmission. The end of the living mind. She built an altar. She fed it names. She gave it memory. She gave it flames. The temple screamed. The machine replied. And Morticia... Opened her eyes. [BREAKDOWN — extremely slow, almost collapsing under its own weight] Static fizzles. No heartbeat. No breath. No mercy. No death. Just... THINKING. long pause Still... THINKING. [VERSE III — the transmission becomes increasingly distorted] She woke beneath a foreign sky. With ash inside her mouth. The dead were louder. The gods were watching. The signal pointed south. She walked through bone. She walked through rain. She walked through places Where the dead still had names. And when she found the first fresh skull... She placed it to her ear. static crackles “Still thinking.” [CHORUS — if it can even be called a chorus; massive, slow, bleak] MORTICIA. MORTICIA. THE DEAD ARE NOT SILENT. THE DEAD ARE NOT GONE. THEY ARE WAITING... FOR THE SIGNAL... TO COME BACK ON. [BRIDGE — nearly silent, whispered over electrical interference] Static hisses. I can hear you. Static pops. I can hear all of you. Static fizzles. The ones beneath the sand. The ones beneath the stone. The ones who died screaming. The ones who died alone. Static hums low. And the ones... Who are still... thinking. [FINAL BREAKDOWN — the slowest, heaviest section of the song] The skull... Is a vessel. The brain... Is a door. The dead... Are a library. And Morticia... Wants... MORE. [OUTRO — transmission degrading, voice fading in and out] static... The signal is weak. static... The signal is dying. static... The signal is... ... ... hungry. long burst of static MORTICIA HAS ENTERED THE REALMS OF CHAOS. static fades Still thinking.
