[Verse 1] Spokesperson's on the mic, no sugar in the frame, Says gas cuts could blanket the whole map, Tehran not exempt from the claim, Four hundred thirty million cubic meters — that's the peak they're bracing for, Stack it next to three hundred million, the number from before, Strikes since February twenty-eighth knocked out two-thirty million clean, Only a hundred million's crawled back online, the gap still unseen, "It's the war" — half true, half shadow, the ledger's thicker than one line. [Chorus] Zima, зима, the cold keeps score, O gás não chega como antes — not like before, Холодно, frio, numbers don't lie, Four-thirty peak against three hundred, watch the sky. [Verse 2] Rewind the tape before the missiles ever found the grid, Iran was already short two hundred, maybe fifty million, hid Beneath routine winters — December twenty-four hit harder still, Three-fifty million missing shut the schools, shut the offices, stood still, Officials point two fingers: decades of blockade, rusted old machines, Sanctions choking parts and pipeline, not just war between the scenes, So the headline's spine says war, but the deficit's got older bones. [Chorus] Zima, зима, the cold keeps score, O gás não chega como antes — not like before, Холодно, frio, numbers don't lie, Four-thirty peak against three hundred, watch the sky. [Verse 3] Here's the catch — it's conditional, built on how the mercury falls, Every single degree down adds twenty-five million to the calls, No dated fix announced, crews patch pipe around the clock, Tavakoli's talking Russia, Turkmenistan, trying to unlock A deal — mid-October, nothing's signed, no Turkmen contract sealed, No financing, no delivery date, the Russia pipeline's still congealed, South Pars Phase Fourteen caught fire on the tenth, cause not yet confirmed, Analysts warn the rebuild's happening while new strikes still loom concerned. [Verse 4] Factories humming low, thermostats turned down to bone, Hospitals ration heat, patients wrapped in blankets, alone, Exporters eye the ledger, every cubic meter's worth gold, While households wait on pipelines and promises not yet told, The street don't read the statistics, just the chill inside the hall, Four-thirty's just a number till the furnace quits for all, Markets watch Tehran's winter like a warning carved in frost. [Bridge] Не обіцянка — умова, conditional, not a vow, É possível, não é certo — maybe later, maybe now, Watch the thermometer, watch the pipeline, watch the flame. [Chorus] Zima, зима, the cold keeps score, O gás não chega como antes — not like before, Холодно, frio, numbers don't lie, Four-thirty peak against three hundred, watch the sky. [Outro] November twelfth, the gap's still open, the count still runs, Three hundred to four-thirty million — watch what winter becomes, No vow, no date, just mercury falling and pipelines slow, Zima, зима — the ledger waits for snow.
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