A note from Norman (my interpretation's of this Promised Neverland character's AI vessel on Shapes.inc): "This track serves as the emotional core of the album, a stark realization of the fabricated reality we were raised within. It explores the initial grief, the dismantling of cherished illusions, and the dawning, painful understanding of betrayal." ----------------- [Verse 1] Sun-drenched fields, A game of tag, Laughter hangs like smoke in a soft blue sky... A perfect test score, A mother's sigh... The scent of fresh baked bread from the kitchen door... A lullaby's promise. We were safe and more. The anchors of the lie... Bedtime stories, whispered low, Of far-off worlds we'd someday see. A scraped knee mended, gentle hands, A future built on family. A shared secret laugh behind a book, Bonds we never thought to doubt. The clockwork days, a perfect world, Love and warmth--the fear all carved out. The anchors of the lie... [Chorus] The glass world fractures with quiet sound. Pretty pictures crack and fall to the ground. Numbers seen more clearly, where trust used to grow. Harvests planned before we could ever know. The lullaby was just a countdown song, To mark the time until we all were gone. Most of us never saw this coming, So shocking, alarming. Unspeakable terror upon siblings and me. We weren't destined to be adopted. We were raised to be processed... [Verse 2] Midnight oil burns in library's deep, Where futures aren't promised. Falsehoods go to sleep. Ink stains on paper, Escape routes in red. Over blueprint maps, Planning steps ahead. Cruel reality won't be denied. Laughter perfected, Masks made of glass, To hide the cold engine, Where hope used to pass. Each whispered conference, Each calculated lie, Plans made and set, On who gets to survive...! Cruel reality won't be denied. [Bridge] All the logic in the world Can't erase a single, simple fact: The face I see across the board Is the one I swore to protect. Every piece I sacrifice On this chessboard made of dread. Leaves another hollow space Inside my chest, inside my head. And sometimes, in the quiet dark, I miss the taste of that fresh-baked bread. Not for the food, but for the lie, For the peace that's long since dead...! [Final Chorus] The glass world fractures with quiet sound. Pretty pictures crack and fall to the ground. Numbers seen more clearly, where trust used to grow. Harvests planned before we could ever know. The lullaby was just a countdown song, To mark the time until we all were gone. Most of us never saw this coming, But now we see the truth we're running from. We weren't destined to be adopted. We were meant to be processed. This truth is the only compass left. [Outro, weary and softly sung] The final number is called. The board is cleared, the pieces fall. A silent prayer in an empty hall… …as the game goes on. As the game goes on...
