About this song
He saw the world through two stones, weighing every soul as a component in his grand machine. This is the lament of the parts he spent, the gears he ground down to save the multiverse from his own cold arithmetic.
Lyrics
[Intro] [Verse 1] You had two stones for eyes, and you weighed us where we stood — not who we were, just what we'd cost: what use, what flaw, what good. You called it arithmetic, you called us parts and gears, and you spent us like a currency across four thousand years. [Pre-Chorus] You never asked our names when the ledger came due — you just carried the sum, and the sum was you. [Chorus] We were the machine you built to save the world, we were the coins you were counting on. You made a weapon out of everyone you loved and you called it mercy when the light was gone. Tick — and the brother falls, tick — and the forest burns. You won. You always win. That's the wound that never turns. [Verse 2] Ask Tocasia in the dust, ask the island you unwound, ask the silver son you shaped to carry what you found. Ask the bloodline you designed, generations for one hand — a champion grown like a crop in the furrows you had planned. [Pre-Chorus] We'd forgive you the war if you'd wept for the toll — but you filed it under progress and you moved the whole. [Chorus] We were the machine you built to save the world, we were the coins you were counting on. You made a weapon out of everyone you loved and you called it mercy when the light was gone. Tick — and the empire falls, tick — and the god comes down. You won. You always win. And you wore it like a crown. [Bridge] I know. I counted every one. I knew the cost before it came. And handed the arithmetic again, I would spend you all the same. Someone had to finish the sum, someone had to do the math — so I fed my eyes into the light and I walked the only path. [Bridge build] And that is the horror of the man who was right: he'd build it all again — every fire, every night. [Final Chorus] We were the machine he built to save the world, we were the sum he was reckoning on. He made a saviour out of everything he spent — and the saving was real, and so was the wrong. Tick — and the head still counts, tick — from the arena floor. He won. He always wins. And nobody keeps the score but us. [Outro] Two stones go dark. The debt is paid in full. The perfect machine — and the parts it was made of.
