Low and dim at the start. The track is still underwater, gathering weight before it charges.

There. The pulse finds the body, but it is still searching under the mass.

A settled pocket lands. Guitars and drums make a thick floor that never feels safe.

Now the long grind holds. No voice yet. Just sustained instrumental current and scale.

Voice finally breaks in as pressure. Waters of chaos. The flooded world gets a name.

Under heavy sea. The riff’s drag turns literal, still searching rather than lifting free.

Second stretch presses forward. Beneath the seas, a colder view of the sinking ship.

Short lifted lines cut through. Over the winds. They dwell in light.

Now the image surfaces. Now I can see the whales, looming out of the dark.

But it’s true. The band keeps the floor unstable under the vision.

Scale again. A huge tunnel ends in light, giants gathering like banks of cloud.

They teach me how to fly. The machinery stays heavy even as the lyric turns airborne.

Late waves keep returning. Weight lifts, falls back, and still owns the body.

Sparse speech now. So much told with no words. Then only presence, then breath.

Closing return. Over the winds, they dwell in light, then one last word: fly.

The grip lets go. Not a collapse. Just the space after the enormous thing has passed.