歌词
(Verse 1)
The fjords lie calm, beneath the sun, a picture postcard, pristine and bright.
But shadows lurk, the battle's begun, a doctor's voice, against the night.
Prosperity's song, a siren's call, the town thrives, on waters clear and deep.
But truth unfolds, a poisoned thrall, a hidden sickness, secrets to reap.
(Chorus)
For he, the doctor, dares to speak, a lone voice rising, from the silent shore.
Of poisoned waters, secrets leak, a truth revealed, to wound the core.
The townsfolk gather, faces grim, the enemy of progress, they declare.
His warnings fall, on ears grown dim, a lonely truth, they cannot bear.
(Verse 2)
The press, a hound, with teeth of greed, twists every word, with venom's sting.
The mayor's smile, a mask indeed, a web of lies, the truth to cling.
The baths, a symbol, wealth untold, a sacrifice, for progress' sake.
But health betrayed, for profits cold, a moral line, the doctor breaks.
(Chorus)
For he, the doctor, dares to speak, a lone voice rising, from the silent shore.
Of poisoned waters, secrets leak, a truth revealed, to wound the core.
The townsfolk gather, faces grim, the enemy of progress, they declare.
His warnings fall, on ears grown dim, a lonely truth, they cannot bear.
(Bridge)
Is truth a burden, heavy to bear? When comfort's song, drowns out the pain?
Can one man fight, a system's snare? When fear and greed, forever reign?
(Verse 3)
The stones are hurled, a chorus roars, a mob mentality, fueled by fear.
His words distort, behind closed doors, his family ostracized, held so dear.
But in his heart, a fire burns, a flicker of defiance, strong and bright.
He stands alone, as hatred churns, an enemy of the people, in the night.
(Chorus)
For he, the doctor, dared to speak, a lone voice rising, from the silent shore.
Of poisoned waters, secrets leak, a truth revealed, forevermore.
The townsfolk gather, faces grim, the enemy of progress, they may say.
But history's whispers, echo him, a lonely truth, that lights the way.
(Outro)
The fjords may gleam, beneath the sun, a picture postcard, bittersweet.
The doctor's fight, may not be won, but truth's a seed, that cannot be beat.
(Ending)
(Chorus)
For he, the doctor, dared to speak, a lone voice rising, from the silent shore.
Of poisoned waters, secrets leak, a truth revealed, forevermore.
The townsfolk gather, faces grim, the enemy of progress, they may say.
But history's whispers, echo him, a lonely truth, that lights the way.
(Outro)
The fjords may gleam, beneath the sun, a picture postcard, bittersweet.
The doctor's fight, may not be won, but truth's a seed, that cannot be beat.
(Ending)
