[Verse 1] Four small doors live in your chest, each one built to pass one test — swing in, snap shut, no looking back, blood walks forward down the track. Right atrium fills up first, tricuspid opens for the thirst, into the ventricle, dark and round, one-way traffic, no U-turn found. [Chorus] Try Pulling My Aorta — say it slow, Tricuspid, Pulmonary, Mitral, Aortic, that's the flow. Кров тече лише вперед, il sangue va avanti, mai indietro, no, four one-way doors, in order, on the floor, one two three four. [Verse 2] Pulmonary's second, right on time, right ventricle gives the sign, pushing blood up to the lung, trading old air for the young. Mitral's quiet, left side's guest, two soft flaps do their best, oxygen-blood comes gliding through, left atrium hands it off to you. [Chorus] Try Pulling My Aorta — say it slow, Tricuspid, Pulmonary, Mitral, Aortic, that's the flow. Двоє двері, дві сторони, due porte, due lati, una via — four one-way doors, in order, on the floor, one two three four. [Verse 3] Aortic's last, the final gate, left ventricle's heaviest freight, slams open once, blood floods the arch, out to fingertips it'll march. Now if a valve should ever fail, doctors name the backward trail — regurgitation, blood that leaks and turns, a rare, unwelcome word one learns. Healthy valves don't know that art, forward only, that's the heart. [Verse 4] Listen close, hear the lub and dub, that's the doors, not just a rub — lub is tricuspid shutting with mitral tight, dub is pulmonary closing beside aortic's might. Two sounds, four valves, one steady song, playing since before you could walk along. Stethoscope pressed against the skin, hears the story of where blood has been — in, then out, and never in reverse, a lifelong loop, a perfect verse. [Bridge] Серце, cuore, one small drum, two tongues, one rhythm when we hum: right side sends blood to the lung and back, left side sends it down the track. Non si torna, ніколи назад, forward only — that's the pact. [Chorus] Try Pulling My Aorta — say it slow, Tricuspid, Pulmonary, Mitral, Aortic, that's the flow. Кров тече лише вперед, il sangue va avanti, mai indietro, no, four one-way doors, in order, on the floor, one two three four. [Chorus] Try Pulling My Aorta — say it slow, Tricuspid, Pulmonary, Mitral, Aortic, that's the flow. Двоє двері, дві сторони, due porte, due lati, una via — four one-way doors, in order, on the floor, one two three four. [Outro] Tricuspid, Pulmonary, Mitral, Aortic, whisper it or sing it loud, four one-way doors, in order, carry the whole loop around, forward only, never back, the whole heart running on the track, one small drum that won't be still, beating on by its own will.
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