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The Artificer’s

[Intro] (Sound of a heavy mechanical hum and a long, high-pitched hiss of steam) (A haunting, lonely pipe organ begins a slow, elegant waltz) (A raspy, mechanical voice: "Efficiency is the only true immortality.") [Verse 1] Glass tubes are pumping with a neon-blue glow, Keeping the rot from the master below. I’m draped in the velvet of emperors and kings, But my spine is a garden of brass-metal rings! The mana is screaming through valves in my chest, Giving the weary no moment of rest. I’m polished and proper, a gentleman’s ghost, To the legions of marrow, I’m father and host! [Pre-Chorus] (The organ speeds up, layered with heavy industrial kicks) The gears are turning! The rituals spin! Where the metal ends, the shadows begin! Hold your breath and steady your hand, I’m building an army from the dust of the land! [Chorus] (Explosive drop with heavy bass and clattering bone-percussion) CLICK! And the ribcage begins to arrive! SNAP! And the hollow ones come back alive! A flick of the finger—it might just fall off, Through the smoke of the forge and a mechanical cough! THE SKELETON MAKER! The Lich’s machine! The most elegant horror that you’ve ever seen! [Verse 2] I don’t need a needle, I don’t need a thread, To weave a new life for the long-forgotten dead. I tap on the marble, I hum a cold tune, And a battalion rises beneath the black moon! My joints may be creaking, my skin may be grey, But I’m moving the pieces in a deadly display. Don't mind the oil that leaks from my eye, I’m far too busy to ever quite die! [Bridge] (Music slows to a grinding, heavy mechanical pulse) (Rhythmic metallic clanging: Clink... Clink... Clink) (Spoken with a dry, refined accent) "Ah, another phalange out of place. No matter. The mana is... overflowing. Rise, my children. Stand... and serve." (A massive orchestral swell that crashes into the final chorus) [Chorus] CLICK! And the ribcage begins to arrive! SNAP! And the hollow ones come back alive! A flick of the finger—it might just fall off, Through the smoke of the forge and a mechanical cough! [Outro] (The pipe organ returns, fading out slowly) Precision... In every... Bone. (Sound of a single finger bone hitting a stone floor: tink) (Mechanical shut-down sound)