ANKH TV

[Overture: sub-bass pulse, distant bells, processed choir breathing]
[Introit - Processional]

[Female Spirit (mezzo-soprano, low, velvety)]

"I count the little funerals my heartbeat tries to hide;

A candle in my ribcage drips its wax across the tide."
[Male Spirit (tenor, quietly)]

"I tally every echo in the corridors of bone;

The metronome of midnight carves my silence into stone."
[Duet - call and response, hush]

F: "Do you hear it?"

M: "Do you feel it?"

F: "The velvet of the void?"

M: "The velvet is a shroud."
[Pre-Chorus - swelling synths]

F: "I kiss the habit's blade, it names me discipline."

M: "I drink the mirror's light, it calls me hunger's twin."

Both: "Between the stop and start, obsession writes the hymn—"
[Chorus - Futuristic Rock uplift, drums bloom]

Both (belt, tight harmony):

"Raise the pall of daylight, nail it to the sky;

This is the funeral of the living, where we learn to die.

Bury every breathing doubt, exhume the hidden cry;

At the funeral of the living, the heart refuses goodbye."
[Sequence - Dialogue of Obsessions]

[Male Spirit (tenor, articulate, staccato)]

"I polish every number till it turns to pure control;

I starve the chaos into lines, I ledger up the soul."
[Female Spirit (mezzo, shadow-bright)]

"I spin the endless wanting till it opens like a wound;

I crown the ache with fireworks, a sugar-bitter moon."
[Duet - contrapuntal lines]

M: "I cannot stop."

F: "I cannot stop."

M: "I cannot break the clock."

F: "I cannot break the lock."

Both (interlock): "We dance upon the seconds like a sacrament of shock."
[Bridge - Pop shimmer, key lift, breathy then surging]

F (mezzo, floating head voice): "Hush, hear the neon psalms, the satellites confess."

M (tenor, rising): "Hush, feel the engines hum beneath our Sunday dress."

Both (crescendo): "Hush, let the living kneel to what the dead address—"
[Chorus - heavier, guitars with synth arpeggios]

Both (belt):

"Raise the pall of daylight, nail it to the sky;

This is the funeral of the living, where we learn to die.

Thread the names we never said across the open night;

At the funeral of the living, we harmonize with fright."
[Offertory - minimalist beat, close mic]

[Female Spirit (mezzo, intimate)]

"I offer up my tremors in a chalice of routine."

[Male Spirit (tenor, intimate)]

"I offer all my measures, every mile I haven't seen."

Both (sotto voce): "The offering is orbit—round and round the unseen."
[Sanctus - eruptive, vocodered choir]

[Choir (processed, luminous)] "Holy the hunger, holy the rule."

[Both (unison, fierce)] "Holy the beautiful terrible pull."
[Agnus - tenderness amid static]

F (mezzo, warm): "Lamb of our longing, take away the weight."

M (tenor, tender): "Lamb of our counting, consecrate the wait."

Both: "Grant us a breath that doesn't imitate fate."
[Refrain - whispered echo]

Both (whisper): "I cannot stop. I cannot start. I orbit in the dark."
[Duet - naked voice, Indie Pop hush-to-burst]

F: "If I bury my pulse, will the ghosts fall asleep?"

M: "If I open my chest, will the clocks come to weep?"

Both (surge): "If we sing like a requiem, will living learn to keep—"
[Chorus - final, expansive, crowd of selves]

Both (belt, octave spread):

"Raise the pall of daylight, nail it to the sky;

This is the funeral of the living, where we learn to die.

Light a flare for mercy in the machinery of night;

At the funeral of the living, we choose a softer fight."
[Coda - Libera Me]

[Female Spirit (mezzo, low, calm)]: "Free me from the loop that turns a kiss to proof."

[Male Spirit (tenor, high A, held)]: "Free me from the grid that edits out the truth."

[Both (diminuendo)]: "Free us into motion—more than orbit, more than roof."

[Choir (fading bells, long reverb)]: "Let the living rise unburied, let the song become the proof."

Funeral of the Living, the newest chapter in Madness and Decadence, stages a requiem opera as a paradox: a ceremony for those who still breathe. The duet is cast as two unnamed spirits exchanging vows with their compulsions, slicing the silence with refrains like “This is the funeral of the living, where we learn to die.” Their dialogue balances “habit’s blade” against the “mirror’s light,” circling a shared confession—“I cannot stop. I cannot start.”—that becomes both diagnosis and hymn. The imagery is visceral yet ritualized: sub-bass bells, neon psalms, a ribcage candle, a ledgered soul; each line chisels at the idea that obsession is a liturgy we perform on ourselves.

Structured with liturgical waypoints—Introit, Offertory, Sanctus, Agnus, Libera—the text turns compulsion into sacred architecture, even daring to sanctify the paradox (“Holy the hunger, holy the rule”). What begins as a self-imposed procession evolves into a quiet revolt: the final plea to be “free… into motion—more than orbit” reframes survival as an exit from perfection’s orbit into flawed, humane velocity. The dynamic call-and-response, whispered to belted, reads like a futuristic rock/pop mass where confession is melody and absolution is breath. In the end, the living are invited to rise unburied, not by denial, but by harmonizing with their fright and choosing “a softer fight.”