[Verse 1] From the floor of the apex, the muscle starts its climb, rising like a tide that runs backward through time, building the low wall, brick by living brick, the primary septum, patient, never quick. [Verse 2] Two cushions swell inward, endocardial and slow, sealing off the inlet where the atriums flow, they lean toward the middle, they lend their own share, weaving a small patch of the membranous stair. [Chorus] Три реки текут — three rivers to one door, muscular, cushion, and conal, nothing more, Membranous septum — здесь встречаются все, the thinnest stitch in the whole cardiac frieze. Три пути, одна дверь — where the seam always tears, this is the junction that every failure wears. [Verse 3] Above them the truncus, once a single wide vein, splits down the middle like a river cut in twain, the conotruncal septum descends from the crown, spiraling downward to finish the town. [Chorus] Три реки текут — three rivers to one door, muscular, cushion, and conal, nothing more, Membranous септум — здесь встречаются все, the thinnest stitch in the whole cardiac frieze. Три пути, одна дверь — where the seam always tears, this is the junction that every failure wears. [Bridge] But if the conus falters, refuses to divide, the outlet stays open, a canyon left wide — outlet defects blossom where the septum should be, and at the far extreme, truncus arteriosus, sea of one vessel only, no splitting, no seam, with a great subarterial gap — obligatory, not a dream. Обречённый разрыв, an opening that must occur, whenever the truncus forgets how to defer. [Verse 4] So remember the climbers: apex, cushion, and crown, three separate builders laying three walls down, and where their hands meet, in that delicate frame, is the membranous point where the trouble makes its claim. [Verse 5] Name the gaps that follow when the seam won't hold fast, perimembranous, doubly committed, a shadow cast, inlet type near the cushions, muscular low in the wall, each one a story of a builder's stumble and fall. The surgeon reads the echo like a map of old scars, tracing which river wandered, which one missed its mark, for every defect whispers where the growth went astray, a lesson in the making, from the earliest day. [Chorus] Три реки текут — three rivers to one door, muscular, cushion, and conal, nothing more, Membranous septum — здесь встречаются все, the thinnest stitch in the whole cardiac frieze. Три пути, одна дверь — where the seam always tears, this is the junction that every failure wears. [Outro] Up from the apex, in from the side, down from the crown — три пути, one small town, and where they gather, thin as a breath, membranous, fragile — that's where the failure gets its depth.
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