[Intro]
[Frame drum and muted bass repeat a five-beat ritual pattern while one guitar note is struck three times.]

[Verse 1]
I returned before sunrise, alone through the pine,
With resin, dry birch bark and one flask of brine.
The offering barley lay stiff in its bowl;
Cold grease filmed the altar, untouched and whole.
The idol stood crooked, one wooden arm cracked,
Its painted eyes open, its face turning black.
A fox track crossed neatly from doorway to wall.
The gods had kept nothing from hunger at all.

[Chorus]
The Last Shrine Burns, no answer in the sparks.
We feed the carved faces to winter and dark.
Not out of hatred, not laughter or scorn,
But no child should kneel here awaiting the dawn.
The Last Shrine Burns where unanswered prayers lie.
What failed as a refuge now reddens the sky.

[Verse 2]
I remembered my father with snow in his beard,
Teaching which god should be honoured and feared.
We brought the first salmon, the first barley bread,
And thanked unseen hands for the living and dead.
Those mornings were honest; the gratitude true.
The lie came when rulers claimed heaven as due,

[Verse 3]
I poured out the brine and took resin instead,
Then wound the dry birch round the altar's carved head.
The first flame was narrow, no wider than thread;
It travelled through juniper garlands gone dead.
Painted thunder curled black from the beam.
The serpent and hammer lost shape in the gleam.
No punishment sounded, no bright weapon came.
Snow merely hissed at the edge of the flame.

[Bridge]
I did not burn memory. Memory stays.
I burned the demand that the frightened must wait.
The choice had been ours since the first roof came down.
No altar could carry the weight of the crown.

[Breakdown]
No sign in the smoke.
No face in the coal.
No hand from the roof-tree.
No price for a soul.

The gods may remember.
The gods may be gone.
The living have footsteps.
The living move on.

[Instrumental Break]
[All guitars drop out; frame drum, bowed lyre and bass continue the five-beat cycle as the fire consumes the shrine.]

[Growl]
I asked for a shield.
The silence remained.
I asked for our children.
The silence remained.

[Final Chorus]
The Last Shrine Burns, its roof open wide.
No heaven descended, no thunder replied.
Not out of hatred, not laughter or scorn,
We leave it as ashes and travel at dawn.
The Last Shrine Burns. Under its light,
Fear loses its altar, its claim and its right.

[Outro]
I sealed one coal in a horn capped with clay,
Not sacred, just fire for the road and the day.
