[Intro] [Prepared piano strikes five dry notes; harmonium answers with the album motif.] I am the report. I am clean. I hide the teeth Between the green. [Verse 1] A thousand white columns stand straight in a row, Their borders are narrow, their headings all glow. But Fehu lies bleeding beneath gross return, A rune for possession with nothing to earn. Isa sits frozen in workforce decline. Nauthiz is buried in “cost redesign.” The sheet looks obedient, orderly, short. There are runes in the quarterly report. [Pre-Chorus] Read east to west, then turn it around. The profit goes up as the headcount goes down. Read north to south where the formulas court The wolf in the quarterly report. [Chorus] Runes in the quarterly report, Carved where every number comes up short. Fehu in the profit line, Isa in the staff decline. Read the cells from north to south: Every promise feeds a mouth. [Verse 2] I ask Hugin softly to trace every sum. He taps through the records, then suddenly goes numb. The company purchased its growth from a shell, Then leased back the future it promised to sell. Munin remembers the names of the fired. Their pensions were moved to a fund marked “expired.” The board calls it progress, efficient and taut. The runes call it hunger disguised as a thought. [Pre-Chorus] Read left to right where the bonuses rise. The cleanest equation contains the most lies. Read line after line till the pattern is caught: A funeral entered as shareholder thought. [Chorus] Runes in the quarterly report, Carved where every number comes up short. Fehu in the profit line, Isa in the staff decline. Read the cells from north to south: Every promise feeds a mouth. [Instrumental Break] [Guitar and prepared piano spell the rune pattern in uneven five-beat phrases.] [Bridge] The report speaks back in a voice made of cells: “I only repeat what authority tells. Change one assumption and all will look well. Change one more value and no one can tell.” I answer, “A symbol remembers its source. A rune may be hidden, but still holds its force.” [Build-up] The columns contract. The harmonium strains. A wolf takes shape in the forecasted gains. The final cell opens, unbordered and black: “Projected condition: no journey back.” [Final Chorus] Runes in the quarterly report, Cut through every sentence clean and short. Fehu owns the profit line, Isa locks the staff decline. Underneath the approved amount, Human names refuse to count. [Outro] I close the file, but not the thought. The runes remain where they were caught. A raven asks what danger means. The screen returns to corporate green.