[Intro – Instrumental, 16 bars] [*Fast guitar strum with a staccato brass flourish, tambourine shakes, stomps, and a rising trumpet call like a rally cry.*] [Verse 1 – Mezzo-Soprano] I was born beneath the copper moon, In a caravan of lace and fumes, Mother named me after fire and dust— Taught me freedom tastes like rust. [Verse 2 – Alto] They tried to cage me in clockwork steel, But gears can’t bind what sparks can feel, I danced on wires strung through air, With wind-tossed hair and engines' glare. [Pre-Chorus – Both, tight harmony with fiddle swell] We’re not the darlings of this age, We’re the sirens in the cage, Flinging sparks with every spin, Singing loud above the din. [Chorus – Full duet, Mezzo-Soprano / Alto, brass in call-and-response] We are the Sparrows of the Black Smoke Line, Running wild past the clocks and spines! Tattooed in soot, we ride the rails, Kiss in shadows, drink from pails. Rag and brass, we laugh, we burn, Hearts unlatched at every turn! We are the queens of fire and grime— Sparrows of the Black Smoke Line! [Verse 3 – Mezzo-Soprano with tambourine shake] I stole a kiss from a baron’s son, Then vanished before the clocks struck one— Left my corset on his throne, And sang my freedom, all alone. [Verse 4 – Alto with rising drums] I’ve slept in ruins, danced through war, Smuggled relics through trapdoor floors— The steam can't hush a gypsy soul, Not when the brass still drums and rolls! [Instrumental Break – Violin solo with stomping, clapping rhythm] [*A swirling violin lead dances with the rhythm—inviting a stage spin, a flick of skirts, and a smirk.*] [Bridge – Spoken & Sung mix, sultry tone] [Mezzo-Soprano (spoken)]: "They called us thieves… but we only stole time." [Alto (sung)]: Spin the wheel, darling, make it climb— [Both]: If fate is cruel, then let it taste— Our lips, our hips, our brazen grace! [Chorus – Both, belted with fierce harmony] We are the Sparrows of the Black Smoke Line, Dancing high on danger’s spine! Wired with lust and stitched with pride, Watch us vanish, steam and stride. Cogs and whispers can’t define— Sparrows of the Black Smoke Line! [Final Chorus – Call-and-response style] [Alto]: Raise the brass and let it bleed! [Mezzo-Soprano]: Sing to ghosts and feed your need! [Both]: We fly through sparks, we drink the sky— We never crawl, we only fly! [Both (Full-out)]: We are the sparrows, wild and wise, Jewels of soot and alley cries! Mark our name in copper grime— Sparrows of the Black Smoke Line! [Outro – Whispered and fading] Smoke trails fade, but we remain... In every kiss that tastes like flame. [*final chord strummed, trumpet calls once, then silence and the sound of steam fading*]
