[Intro]
[Two tagelharpa notes alternate across long measures while the third remains absent.]

[Verse 1]
My tongue has swollen against my teeth;
Each breath returns with less beneath.
Rain gathers tight along my chin,
Then runs outside and not within.
A drop rests bright upon my lip;
The rope turns hard when I try to sip.
The clouds possess what I require;
The sky pours water on the fire.

[Chorus]
No bread, no water, no warming flame,
The rain knows every secret name.
My tongue is bark, my fingers stone;
The branch has learned the weight of bone.
No servant comes, no drinking horn—
No bread, no water until I am torn.

[Verse 2]
I smell the loaves from Odin’s hall,
Brown crusts arranged beside the wall.
I hear the knife divide the meat;
I feel warm rushes at my feet.
I know the feast is thought, not food,
A trick distilled from failing blood.
Still every phantom cup I raise
Turns into bark between my gaze.

[Chorus]
No bread, no water, no warming flame,
The rain knows every secret name.
My tongue is bark, my fingers stone;
The branch has learned the weight of bone.
No servant comes, no drinking horn—
No bread, no water until I am torn.

[Break]
I used to bless the feast and field.
I took the first cut from the yield.
I knew which guest received which chair.
I never asked who was not there.

[Verse 3]
The hungry dead beneath the root
Now press their mouths against my boot.
Not for my flesh, not for my blood—
They ask why kings command the food.
A winter child holds out a bowl;
It weighs far more than crown or soul.
I try to fill it with my hand;
My fingers pass through root and sand.

[Bridge]
A body is no lesser page
Because it thirsts beneath a sage.
The belly speaks without disguise;
The wound refuses courtly lies.

[Instrumental]
[The floor tom drops beats from each phrase until only breath, guitar drone and two bowed notes remain.]

[Buildup]
No bread.
No water.
No hand below.

[Buildup II]
No backward road.
No place to go.

[Final Chorus]
No bread, no water, no warming flame,
The rain has washed away my name.
My tongue is bark, my fingers stone;
The branch and I share weight and bone.
No servant comes, no drinking horn—
No bread, no water, and Odin is torn.

[Refrain]
No bread, no water—
The root is fed.
The mouth stays open.
The king hangs dead.

[Outro]
A drop reaches my lip.
I cannot drink.
Below the root,
Red symbols blink.