[Intro – whispered, guqin and distant bronze bells] Incense rising... coins are falling... Who wanted the lantern? Who only wanted the light? [Verse 1 – dusty lo-fi jazz groove] Underneath the crimson gate I sold the answers, sealed by fate Thirty winters, gold and thread Counting every word I said They came to me, they paid the price I thought my hands were paradise But in the shadows, quietly They only wanted what they couldn't see [Pre-Chorus – erhu rises, shifting 7/8 rhythm] Was it devotion? Was it desire? Or just the absence Of another fire? [Chorus – ritual chant over modal jazz] Fiction demand Gold in my hand The coins were real But I misunderstood the plan Fiction demand Written in sand They wanted the meaning Not the messenger's hand Oh, the need was real The need was real But the story I believed Was never part of the deal [Instrumental – guqin and Rhodes call-and-response, dizi improvisation, 7/8] [Verse 2 – deep upright bass, syncopated percussion] A thousand lanterns fill the street New little flames, a different beat No one is waiting by my door The road is open evermore I curse the light, I curse the crowd I call their choices cheap and loud But did they ever come for me? Or just the way across the sea? [Pre-Chorus – whispered, ritual bells] When the bridge becomes a road Who still needs the bridge to hold? [Chorus – layered voices] Fiction demand Gold in my hand The coins were real But I misunderstood the plan Fiction demand A vanishing stand I sold them the vessel They came for the water, not the hand [Bridge – half-time, erhu solo, sparse spoken word] The vessel was beautiful The water was necessary I confused the two And somewhere beyond the crowded gate Someone still waits For the sound of the vessel Not everyone But someone [Progressive Climax – layered guqin, brass bells, jazz drums, ascending harmony] Separate the purpose Separate the name Nothing was stolen But nothing stays the same New roads opening Old stories fall A thousand different hungers Were never one at all [Final Chorus – hypnotic ritual jazz] Fiction demand Open your hand The need was never false Only what I thought it meant Fiction demand Now I understand Not everyone who pays Was ever asking for my hand [Outro – solo guqin, vinyl hiss, distant gong] The market was real... The longing was real... Only the story Was fiction... Fiction demand...
