Verse 1

We lay our fathers down on days like this

When the news keeps moving and the grief does not

Somewhere a door cracks open half an inch

Then firms its frame against what it forgot

The eggs get thrown, the handshakes stall at noon

A billion dollars lands on someone's floor

We count the things we thought we understood

And find we cannot count them anymore

Chorus

The strait holds its tongue

The border draws its line

We mourn in languages

That do not quite align

Genius passes, tribute paid in full

And still the channel narrows, still the flags

Still the helmets and the fines and the pull

Of every rope attached to what it drags

Bridge

We are the riders on the unmarked road

We are the neighbors quarreling at the gate

We signed the paper, we disputed the code

We arrived too early, we arrived too late

Somewhere a son grieves what cannot be named

And art outlives the hands that built its frame

Outro

We set our burdens at the waterline

We watch the surface — unresolved, unclear

The tongue still held, the strait still drawn in brine

We were all here

We were all here

Instrumental Outro

How did it make you feel?

A new song arrives tomorrow.