[Departure] Untie it. No ceremony. Forecast offshore. Land stays dry. Good enough. [Leaving Shore] A little north. A little wrong. Tap the coordinates. Again. Nothing ahead but weather. [Surface] The sea changes colour. No announcement. Hull learns a new language. Something underneath breathes back. [Refrain] If it won’t come here— go there. If it won’t arrive— enter. [Calm Water] Familiar shapes under glass. Almost music. Almost memory. A bell somewhere. A breath of brass. Gone. [Outer Band] Rain sideways. Names leave the map. Horizon withdrawn. The sock would be useless out here. [Instrumental Crossing] [xylophone navigation motif] [clean guitar memory underneath] [jazz flute flashes briefly] [bass clarinet answers] [one distant cosmic boom] [voices bloom, then shear apart] [Inside] No shore. No forecast. No distance between weather and skin. So this is what you meant. [A CAPPELLA — close, breathy] Not rejected. Not received. Just— elsewhere. [Choppy Water] A note returns. Wrong shape. A bell lands late. A harmony opens— then breaks. Something familiar passes beneath us. No name. [Deep Water] The storm has no opinion. That helps. The sea doesn’t remember whose turn it was. [Instrumental Turn] [xylophone motif loses a note] [silence] [bass clarinet quietly supplies it] [brief harmony bloom] [Return Question] Do we turn back? No answer. Do we stay? No answer. Good. [Final Drift] Land waits somewhere. Weather moves somewhere. For once— I am not between them. The map is wet. The marks have moved. The music sounds familiar— but not enough. Have I lost my way? [HARD END — STOP. NO REPEAT. NO EXTENDED OUTRO.]
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