[Intro]
[Instrumental Intro: Three shield strikes answer the descending tagelharpa motif.]

[Verse 1]
BOHR raised sons where salt winds blew,
Three minds bound, yet each mind knew
The giant’s brood had filled the span,
With neither boundary, oath nor plan.
They slept in limbs, they woke in sweat,
They took whatever flesh they met.
No furrow held, no hearth could last,
While EE-meer’s hunger widened fast.

[Pre-Chorus]
OH-din saw the unwritten sky.
VEE-lee asked the reason why.
VAY touched frost and answered plain:
“No world is born while none restrain.”

[Chorus]
We are the Sons of BOHR—three hands, one vow,
No ordered field can flourish now.
The giant fills what might become;
His heartbeat drowns the unborn drum.
Sons of BOHR, let purpose begin—
To make a world, we must break him.

[Verse 2]
VEE-lee counted every breath,
Each birth that fed the breadth of death.
VAY marked places, edge from edge,
And carved three runes upon a ledge.
OH-din listened through the din,
For something moved beneath his skin:
Not mercy, hatred, pride or fear—
A future speaking sharp and clear.

[Pre-Chorus]
“Brother, hear the formless roar.
Leave it whole—there will be no more.
Cut the flood and shape the span;
Blood may purchase earth for man.”

[Chorus]
We are the Sons of BOHR—three hands, one vow,
No ordered field can flourish now.
The giant fills what might become;
His heartbeat drowns the unborn drum.
Sons of BOHR, let purpose begin—
To make a world, we must break him.

[Bridge]
[Male Vocal: VEE-lee] I give the will that holds the line.
[Male Vocal: VAY] I name the place and mark the sign.
[Male Vocal: OH-din] I bear the sight that will not dim.
[Choir] Then bear the cost that no one knows.
[Male Vocal: OH-din] If world must rise from slaughtered breath,
[Male Vocal: OH-din] My hands will build—and answer death.

[Instrumental]
[Instrumental Direction: Three short guitar leads overlap in 7/8 before joining one sustained unison note.]

[Breakdown]
Three minds.
Three blades.
One body fills the gap.
Three names.
Three hands.
One woond across the map.

[Final Chorus]
We are the Sons of BOHR—three hands, one vow,
The choice is cut and spoken now.
The giant fills what will not come;
We’ll still his heart and raise the sun.
Sons of BOHR, let purpose begin—
To make a world, we must break him.

[Coda]
No song will cleanse the work we do;
But shapeless dark must answer to form made true.

[Outro]
Three shadows crossed the crusted plain.
Behind them came the iron rain.
Ahead, one heartbeat shook the rim—
And every step drew near to EE-meer.
