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letra de canaries in the coal mine - sxmrxxt

[intro]
“we mined the future, vein by vein…
now only echoes remain”

[hook]
canaries in the coal mine, fading in the glow time
breathin’ in the black lungs, tethered to a slow sign
warnings in the throat-line, buried in a ghost rhyme
tectonics in my soul’s spine, cracking where the hopes climb
ashes in a straight line, dancing in a show-time
ringing in the flatline, bleeding on the low chime
never was a headline, always was a no-sign
we the onеs who broke time, still we nеver chose crime

[verse 1]
i scribe on stone in silence, like fossils etched with shame-a
each love i lost was pressure, turned carbon into flame-a
my faith’s a faulted strata, it shifts but sounds the same-a
i dream in coalbed hymns, where guilt forgets its name-a
she carved her name in shale, where time won’t lay a claim-a
our history’s in voids, not just the ground we tame-a
the whispers flood the seams, but never breach the frame-a
each heartbreak is a drill, and i can’t numb the pain-a
i’ve tasted rusted vows, and kissed through acid rain-a
my tears erode the roots, yet i still plant in vain-a
a pulse beneath my feet, like earth would twist in blame-a
i aged inside a core, where magma holds disdain-a
each gesture’s just a scar, pretending to remain-a
i see the dead canaries, but i still sing the same-a
and silence is a blade, that doesn’t miss its aim-a
[hook]
these lights in the coal mine, fading in the glow time
breathin’ in the black amass, tethered to a slow sign
warnings in the throat-line, buried in a ghost rhyme
tectonics in my soul’s spine, cracking where the hopes climb
ashes in a straight line, dancing in a show-time
ringing in the flatline, bleeding most of the time
never was a headline, always was a no-sign
we the ones who broke time, still we made so far

[verse 2]
i write in pyroclast, the ink is grief and chrome-a
each metaphor’s a relic, exiled from its home-a
my mind’s a sunken trench, where logic fears to roam-a
i slept in glacial thoughts, but woke in molten dome-a
the silence isn’t peace, it’s just a heavier tome-a
i’ve walked through empty towns, where time forgot to comb-a
this voice is echo-etched, not flesh or skin or foam-a
i haunt the living veins, inside a data loam-a
she asked if love could grow, i answered with a poem-a
but all i had were spores, decaying in their dome-a
the mirror cracked in thirds, revealing every clone-a
my history’s not linear, it loops inside my chroma
a latticework of loss, encoded in my soma
each verse a fault collapse, beneath the catacoma
still i sing the blackbird’s song, no breath, no encoma
[breakdown]
“you didn’t hear them…
they screamed before the blast”
“you didn’t see us…
but we were always the past”

[outro]
“first the song… then the silence”
“then the world forgets we sang at all”
“but somewhere beneath, the coal still glows”

- sxmrxxt

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