[Cold Open — unaccompanied; close microphone]
Kramatorsk.
A bus route.
Not your fucking front line.
[Verse — full-speed hardcore]
Seat.
Window.
Route.
Stop.
Which part of PASSENGER
Got stuck in your mouth?
Don't dress the seats in uniforms.
Don't pin a country to a chest.
Don't drag your fucking map in here
And make the bodies do the rest.
[Chorus — lead / gang]
KEEP THE RETURN FARE!
THERE IS NO RETURN!
SAY THE WORD—CIVILIAN!
UNTIL YOUR FUCKING MOUTH BURNS!
[Verse — snare drops out; bass keeps running]
The first count changes.
The dead stay dead.
You can't edit a passenger
Back into a seat.
I can count until the screen goes white.
Still nobody comes back from the sum.
Your explanation gets another paragraph.
Their journey doesn't get another mile.
[Chorus — all voices; twice the weight]
KEEP THE RETURN FARE!
THERE IS NO RETURN!
SAY THE WORD—CIVILIAN!
UNTIL YOUR FUCKING MOUTH BURNS!
[Breakdown — one phrase per crushing hit]
PASSENGER.
Not your backdrop.
PASSENGER.
Not your fucking proof.
Fold your map.
Put it away.
It doesn't get a seat
At this funeral.
[False Ending — silence; then one final riff]
The number was revised.
[Final Shout]
BRING ONE BACK.