[Verse 1] He walks where the world forgets its name, on brittle pages of frozen flame. A god made heavy by silent years, drinking the ocean through cracking mirrors. The north once held him like a vow, but vows don’t mean what they mean now. The ice was scripture, clean and white, now rewritten by warming light. [Pre-Chorus] And the horizon starts to bleed, where certainty turns into need. [Chorus] Song for Nanook, drifting slow, across the places that used to know how to hold him, how to pray, how to keep the dark at bay. Song for Nanook, fading form, born of silence, raised in storm. The world grows thin beneath his feet, a memory that refuses defeat. [Verse 2] The seals have learned a different song, the currents say the maps were wrong. Steel skies open above the tide, where the cold once learned to hide. He carries weight no land can bear, a crown of frost, a breath of air. And every step is a question mark, written in water, swallowed by dark. [Pre-Chorus] The north is no longer a throne, just water learning how to own. [Chorus] Song for Nanook, drifting slow, across the places that used to know how to hold him, how to pray, how to keep the dark at bay. Song for Nanook, fading form, born of silence, raised in storm. The world grows thin beneath his feet, a memory that refuses defeat. [Bridge] And if the ice was ever law, then who erased what no one saw? A slow unmaking, soft and wide, the earth forgetting how to decide. [Final Chorus] Song for Nanook, last refrain, carved in salt and falling rain. A god unmade by patient sea, still walking where we used to be. Song for Nanook, hold the line, between extinction and design. One last kingdom, pale and vast, made of futures slipping past. [Outro] And the north keeps singing. But it sounds like breaking.
