On Folding [XXVII]

[Intro] [clean electric guitar arpeggio, syncopated drum fill] [Verse 1] [bass enters, melodic tenor vocals] Soft the air, the wind that carries it on Folded in, not like a story, just as it settles on the pages I am or I was, I think I think I go I think I think I never learned to home [Chorus] [overdriven guitars enter, driving drums] Like an eclipse of quiet logic, madness lingering in the spaces No clock, only a wet block, uncounted waves folding on themselves Heart drifted across a bridge, each pulse between what is moving's possible light [Bridge] [half-time feel, layered vocal harmonies] We are a maze of colors, chaos folding in the wind of noise Decoherence, a cracked window on it all [Verse 2] [drums drop out, clean guitar riff] I found a door to hold it, opening up to fractured stars And I walked through to the quiet where thoughts bleed into the earth Where bones get to remember so here I am [Guitar Solo] [distorted lead guitar, rapid alternate picking, complex drum fills] [Outro] [full band crescendo] Living inside a truth so jagged it can't be told This is the only home I know, who is the hand? My small song is not for you, it's not for anyone No heroes, no villains, not even for the pages, for the air [feedback swell, abrupt stop]