Zero spirits, tens of miles

The old white scenery petrified

In the silence of the arctic lakeshore

The coldness slowly reaching my core

High tension, frosty surface

A scream that shoots the distress

A cell devouring doubt

Words dying on their way out

All I can hear is the echo

Deep within, rooted tight

All I can hear is the echo

You are what you hide

The quiet grip fails to endure

Awakening the dormant obscurе

A rebounding voice wasted, unhеard

The reason why stays loudly unanswered

The cascading stream of questions in me

Will only be heard by these fucking trees

All I can hear is the echo

Deep within, rooted tight

All I can hear is the echo

You are what you hide