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[Intro]
FUCK! (scream it)

[Verse 1]
I see red lines spinning, la la
Pressure building, break the skin, oh, fuck
Nothing clear, shapes blur, la la la
Only feel the scrape, begin again

[Chorus]
Razor spiral, turn and bleed
Rip it faster, can't break free
FUCK! FUCK! (blast it back)
Razor spiral, eat the speed

[Verse 2]
I don’t look away, keep running, la la la
Teeth grind, muscle fires, oh, fuck
Back in the circle, always rushing
Spin and cut, la la, nothing stopping

[Pre-Chorus]
No reason, no end, la la la
Round I go, rip the edge, oh

[Chorus]
Razor spiral, turn and bleed
Rip it faster, can’t break free
FUCK! FUCK! (blast it back)
Razor spiral, eat the speed

[Breakdown]
Down the wire, cut me raw!
Down the spiral, fuck it all!
Scream the motion, heavy fall!
Double pedal, rip it all!

[Bridge]
La la la, can't stop
La la la, keep spinning
La la la, fuck this
La la la, grind in

[Solo]

[Chorus]
Razor spiral, turn and bleed
Rip it faster, can't break free
FUCK! FUCK! (blast it back)
Razor spiral, eat the speed

[Outro]
La la la
FUCK!

Razor Spiral

Light Up is an emotional awakening set to sound — an album forged in vulnerability, resilience, and rebirth. With soaring melodies, powerful rhythms, and raw lyrical honesty, this collection of songs unearths the hidden places where pain lingers, only to ignite them with clarity and fire.

It’s a soundtrack for those who’ve carried the weight of their past like rusted chains, who’ve moved through life unseen, unheard, and yet unbroken. Each track is a spark — a confrontation with silence, a burning away of falsehoods, and a declaration of self through shattered illusions.

The music pulses with a sense of quiet revolution, blending aggressive edge with atmospheric depth. From whispered introspection to explosive anthems, Light Up leads the listener through storm and shadow into a space of catharsis — where falling apart isn’t the end, but the beginning of becoming whole.

This is more than an album. It's a reclamation.
A voice rising from the wreckage.
A heartbeat in the dark.
A fire that won’t burn out.

In the wreckage… we find light.

From Inside

“Gather close, and let the embers speak. For this is no tale of kings and crowns — this is the saga of fire, oath, and blood. This is the song of the last skald, and the flame that refused to die.”

In the twilight of the old world, when the fjords whispered of gods and ghosts, a warband rose beneath the dawn. Their oaths were carved in stone, their names etched in frost. The saga begins with “Oathbound at Dawn,” where warriors swear loyalty not by word, but by fire — a ritual of steel and spirit beneath the rising sun.

From the shadows of the fjord comes “The Wolf and the Fjord,” a tale of cunning and survival. The warband moves like smoke, striking with the silence of beasts. Then the drums thunder in “Hammerfall Rite,” a berserker’s invocation to Thor — the moment before the clash, where rage becomes ritual and the sky splits with fury.

But war is not only steel. In “Seidr’s Veil,” the warriors kneel before the völva, the seer who chants in tongues older than time. She shows them fate — not as prophecy, but as consequence. And then the clash: “Blood on the Ice” erupts with chaos, where shields splinter and the fjord runs red. Victory is won, but not without cost.

The ravens arrive in “The Raven’s Feast,” circling the dead with solemn grace. They do not mourn — they honor. The battlefield is silent, save for the wind and the wings. And then the myth deepens in “Stone of the Nine Worlds,” where the skald walks through realms of fire, frost, death, and dream. Each world speaks, each stone remembers.

Now the skald stands alone in “Skald of the Last Flame,” the titular track. He sings not for glory, but for memory — the last voice of a vanished warband, the final ember of a forgotten age. The longship burns in “Ashes of the Longship,” a funeral voyage across the sea, where names are whispered into the tide.

But the saga does not end. In “Echoes in the Hall of Shields,” the voices of the fallen rise in chorus. Their shields line the walls of the honored hall, and their names thunder through eternity. Yet even this is not the final flame.

A new chapter begins with “Where the Chief Fell, the Flame Rises.” The warband’s leader is gone, lost to legend. But his fire lives on. The Son steps forward in “The Son Who Bears the Ember,” uncertain but resolute, carrying the weight of legacy in trembling hands.

He learns the truth in “Peace Is a Lie.” The world does not honor restraint — it devours it. The Son casts aside hope and embraces fire. But in “Ashes of the First Command,” he learns that war is never clean. The cost of leadership is written in blood.

And finally, he rises in “The Flame That Does Not Bow.” No longer a child, no longer a warlord — he is the flame itself. Not wild, not broken, but eternal. He walks not for vengeance, but for truth. The saga ends not in silence, but in fire.

“So remember this, you who listen by the hearth: the skald may fall, the chief may fade, but the flame marches on. And in every oath, in every name, in every echo — the saga lives.”

Coal

Mudvayne

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