A single clean guitar figure opens it, quick, rounded shapes over a pulse that already feels fast, light and unweighted.

And there's the voice, 'meet a new sunrise,' sung almost conversationally, with the band leaving space around it.

The voice admits a coward's shivering inside, and the shiver lives in the restraint: steady drums, a smooth surface, the guitar turning over small, precise shapes.

'Suffering with smile,' just laid out plainly in a clean melodic line. The softness is disciplined.

Around here the track is still holding back, moving toward the ring-out and suspension before the full harsh entrance.

There's the other voice. The register drops to harsh on 'scale armour blaze,' and the band closes ranks around it.

'Virgin innocence,' the words keep their gleam while the delivery scrapes them against the riff.

'One being brings life,' and the answer, 'another runs for death.' The band treats them as a cycle, not an outburst; even when the attacks lean around the beat, the center holds.

The same lines come around again. The section has locked into its shape, and it doesn't sprawl.

The clean voice returns, 'no promises I ever give,' and the space opens back up. It lands colder than the beginning, we've already heard what the harsh register does.

'Don't rely on me,' sung with a clear, almost elegant distance, while the rhythm stays agile underneath and the guitar keeps the floor moving. It's not resting; it's swimming in place.

'Hooks and nets,' and 'but I'm skittish.' A flicker of evasion in the clean vocal, and the band gives the line room to dart.

The harsh refrain is back on 'scale armour blaze,' less surprise this time, more inevitability. The drums and guitars hold it tight.

Innocence, life, death, the same opposing images, pressed into the same rhythmic mold. The music just holds them there.

This stretch grips without the band constantly thickening. The groove has a seat, but the accents keep shifting, enough that you can't sleepwalk.

'Neptune's child shivering inside,' a darker waterline. The voice draws the image out instead of explaining it, and the band lets the space hang.

'Drowns in the liquid gold,' and there's a strange brightness in the way it's sung, like the drowning is lit from inside.

The melodic frame widens here; 'to the underworld' carries real drama in the tune, and the track starts to gather.

'When the winter cries,' a brief gleam of brightness at the edge of the sound.

And the title at last: 'Pisces swimming through the river.' The surface has hardened, and the rhythm tightens right beneath the line.

The lines stack up faster now, a whole life against the stream, and a hook to catch on.

The last section is the harshest. 'Then suffocate in painful tortures,' the voice turns severe, the guitars press forward.

'A knife of handsome butchers,' and then the emeralds, the shine of the scales themselves, start getting ripped away.

'Emeralds are ripped away,' again, and again. Each return narrows the space a little more.

The pressure's been falling away, and now the pattern breaks, into one last gap.