The Book That Reads You V2

[Intro] (whispered voices, wet pages, distant organ) Do not open it. Do not ask. Some doors are made of paper, some graves are made of facts. A page turns by itself. The ink begins to move. You came to learn the truth— now the truth learns you. [Verse 1] (deep male voice, tense and low) I found it under temple stone, wrapped in salt and prayer. No dust upon the blackened cover, no mortal name was there. It hummed like rain on buried glass, it breathed without a lung. When I touched the first cold letter, something ancient touched my tongue. [Pre-Chorus] (whispers building behind the lead) Not a scream. Not a blade. Just a question softly made. What would you lose to know what gods have hidden? [Chorus] (huge, dark, memorable) Mora knows what the dead forgot, writes your name where eyes will rot. Turn the page, but pay the cost— every secret wants you lost. Hermaeus Mora, deep below thought, keeper of the truth you sought. Read one line, lose one more part— the book has teeth inside your heart. [Verse 2] (heavier rhythm, watery organ) Apocrypha rose around my feet, green lamps in endless rain. Bookshelves climbed like crooked towers, whispering my name. Seekers watched with folded hands, Lurkers stirred below. Every answer wore another door, every door said, “Go.” [Pre-Chorus 2] (choir darker, drums rising) I saw kings before their crowns, saw heroes fail unseen. Saw every oath, every lie, written in between. [Chorus] (larger choir, stronger drums) Mora knows what the dead forgot, writes your name where eyes will rot. Turn the page, but pay the cost— every secret wants you lost. Hermaeus Mora, deep below thought, keeper of the truth you sought. Read one line, lose one more part— the book has teeth inside your heart. [Bridge] (half-spoken, ritual, strange calm) He does not chase. He does not call. He waits where all roads end. In the margin of a prophecy, in the mouth of a dead friend. He gives you maps to hidden doors, then moves the walls inside. He shows the shape of destiny, then asks what you will hide. Knowledge is a hunger. Memory is a sea. And every mind that drinks too deep forgets how to be free. [Breakdown] (slow, heavy, whisper choir) Ink in the water. Eyes in the rain. Names in the margins. Truth in the pain. Page after page. Line after line. I came for the secret— the secret took mine. [Final Chorus] (massive, terrifying, full choir) Mora knows what the dead forgot, writes your name where eyes will rot. Turn the page, but pay the cost— every secret wants you lost. Hermaeus Mora, deep below thought, keeper of the truth you sought. Read one line, lose one more part— the book has teeth inside your heart. [Final Refrain] (choir, repeated and rising) Turn the page. Pay the cost. Every secret wants you lost. Turn the page. Pay the cost. Every secret wants you lost. [Outro] (soft, cold, one page turning) Do not open it. Do not ask. Some doors are made of paper, some graves are made of facts. The book is closed. The room is still. But in your sleep… the pages will.