Post-Punk, Sovietwave, New Wave, driving melodic chorus-drenched bass, gated drums, crystalline electric guitars, sweeping cold analog synths, masculine baritone vocals, textured "rubbed" grit but clear, 148 BPM, key of D minor, cinematic atmosphere, heroic gloom.

the granite crust is hard and thin
i walk the path of frozen dust
a brittle ice upon the skin
a silver sea of ancient rust
the furnace breathes beneath the floor
(beneath the floor)
a heavy tide of liquid fire
i stand within the pause once more
to watch the rising black empire
the sky is sharp and heavy blue
the monuments are turning cold
i keep the distance, sharp and true
before the massive world is old
the furnace breathes beneath the floor
(beneath the floor)
a heavy tide of liquid fire
i stand within the pause once more
to watch the rising black empire
the mountains are a thin disguise
the oceans are a bitter veil
i see the red horizon rise
to watch the heavy metal fail
the furnace breathes beneath the floor
(beneath the floor)
a heavy tide of liquid fire
i stand within the pause once more
to watch the rising black empire
the floor is thin
the furnace waits
(the floor is thin)
the floor is thin
the world is steel
(the world is steel)
the end is real

WE ARE THE SECRET OF THE SECRET