Lyric

Unpredicted snow paints the world in white tonight

3 AM on the highway, silence cutting like a knife

On the rooftops, red aviation lights start to blink

Invisible birds own the sky while we’re on the brink

Walking on thin ice, we call it "peace" and stay blind

Still acting out the scenes that yesterday left behind

Shadows without bodies flicking on the radar screen

Whose finger’s on the trigger of this war unseen?

TV shows us conflicts in a land that’s far away

But under our feet, a giant fiction starts to play

Gazing through the barbed wire at the store we used to know

The line between the home and front is starting to blur and go

Breath fogging up against the bulletproof glass

Are we guarding justice or the systems of the past?

Shadows of iron giants melting into the drift

The beast that lost its fangs is starting to wake and shift

Cold Mirage – a hazy white on the city’s edge today

The end of a long, long nap we called a peaceful day

Creaking iron and whispers, dancing in the gale

We’re still hunting for the trigger inside this phantom veil

(Is this real or just a shadow play? We don't know)

Empty boulevards where the armored columns line

Yesterday's logic dies in the slush and the grime

Truth is drowning deep inside the ocean of the feed

While "the situation" turns a life into a digit for their greed

Monitor glow lighting up a face cold as stone

Bearing the weight of orders, standing all alone

The silence of the moment when the city turns to war

Everyone’s a bystander, yet guilty to the core

Looking at the sky, wings holding missiles tight

The price of peace is always blood, paid in the night

"Justice" is a selfish equation we can’t solve

The freezing night deepens as our broken lives revolve

Giant fingertips touch the heart of the town

Is it the start or the end as the world slows down?

We just close the rusted hatch and pray inside the dark

That tomorrow isn't just another hollow, dying spark

This is the front line

Not on your TV screen – it’s right before your eyes

Even if the snow hides the world

The smell of iron and the ghost of gunpowder won’t die

Cold Mirage – a hazy white on the city’s edge today

The end of a long, long nap we called a peaceful day

Creaking iron and whispers, dancing in the gale

We’re still hunting for the trigger inside this phantom veil

The snow never stops

Our job is just to witness this quiet despair

"All quiet. No abnormalities found."

I whispered to the void