Hi — I’d like to test whether the meaning of my lyrics comes through without any context.

Could you answer three things:

What do you think the song is about?

What 3 keywords/themes do you take from it?

Which single line points most clearly to the core message?

Here are the lyrics:
Verse 1:
Thin prints on stone, fresh paste, a biting sting.
The same tight lines, enough to make them cling.
Prove it! Show it! Know it!
Dogs start to howl in bursts along the street.
An omen in the gutter. Cold, on repeat.
Repair! Be fair! Declare!
They raise their voices, one blunt, common hymn.
Shoulder to shoulder, each mouth signs a pseudonym.

Chorus:
I am the forge where hatred learns its name.
Call to carnage
Pick an enemy
Crown the foe
I am the forge where hatred learns its name.
Call to carnage

Verse 2:
He didn’t sing; his lips stayed thin and still.
Their breath went sharp; the air turned raw and chill.
Found him! Round him! Crown him!
A finger lifts, sudden as a flare of fear.
They form a procession; the rite draws him near.
File in! Fall in! Lock in!
Straps bite on shoulders; boots keep time on steel.
By dusk they move as one, no face, no feel.

Chorus:
I am the forge where hatred learns its name.
Call to carnage
Pick an enemy
Crown the foe
I am the forge where hatred learns its name.
Call to carnage

Verse 3:
At first light, boots find flesh; the stones take stain.
They drag the bodies past the torn-off, rattling chain.
Gut them! Split them! Kill them!
They haul them to the altar; parts skid on the floor.
A seal is pressed in blood; it burns in the core.
Engrave! Deprave! repave!
No faces left, just pieces in the guttered street.
By dusk the flies arrive; the stink turns thick and sweet.

Chorus:
I am the forge where hatred learns its name.
Call to carnage
Pick an enemy
Crown the foe
I am the forge where hatred learns its name.
Call to carnage

Outro
You heard the bell. I am the forge where hatred learns its name.
I dressed a rumor in regalia, and you marched it into flame.
I gave you one clean target, a face to carry blame,
and every oath you swore to “truth” was simply forged the same.
Now look at what you made: the ribs, the ruins, the stain.
I harvest what comes after: the numb, obedient plain.
No grief. No questions. Only hush where mercy used to be.
Call to carnage fades to nothing, then you hand the nothing back to me.