[Verse 1] Sun scorches canvas where dwellings stood breathing, Clay turns to powder beneath heavy seething, Palm fronds curl inward from furnace-like weather, Wind carries whispers that won’t stitch together, Footprints get swallowed by shifting terrain, Trails rearranged like erased from the brain, Cisterns run hollow, the rope hangs slack, Buckets return with a hollowed-out lack, Lanterns once lit now flicker then fail, Oil runs dry in a suffocating gale, Caravans halted by iron control, Routes once alive now taxed with a toll, Dates fall early from branches disturbed, Harvest disrupted, the cycle perturbed, Nomads read stars but constellations skew, Guidance gets warped by a falsified view [Chorus] Heat haze dances, bending what’s real, Distance disguises what wounds conceal, Footfalls fade where the dunes rearrange, Nothing stays still when the currents estrange [Verse 2] Stone walls remember each tremor that passed, Etchings remain though the voices don’t last, Market stalls empty, the fabrics withdrawn, Colors once vibrant now muted and gone, Goats wander aimless, their shepherd displaced, Paths intertwine in a disordered maze, Barrels once filled now echo inside, Scarcity lingers where plenty resided, Mirages shimmer with promises false, Hope gets diluted in brackish results, Scribes carve records in weathered-out slabs, Meaning survives though the authors collapse, Torches held high by figures unknown, Judgment approaches though never been shown, Balance returns through a force unseen, Even the buried won’t stay in between [Chorus] Heat haze dances, bending what’s real, Distance disguises what wounds conceal, Footfalls fade where the dunes rearrange, Nothing stays still when the currents estrange [Bridge] Grains keep falling through fingers that clutch, Weight of the quiet still pressing too much, Shadows grow longer as daylight recedes, Something unresolved still plants its seeds [Chorus] Heat haze dances, bending what’s real, Distance disguises what wounds conceal, Footfalls fade where the dunes rearrange, Nothing stays still when the currents estrange [Outro] Wind writes stories in spiraling lines, Gone by the morning yet carved into time, What was attempted to scatter or hide, Circles back round with the turning of tides