[Intro — thin-air drone, a slow heartbeat far away, wind moving through stone like breath, voice half-asleep, close and small] Five more minutes. Then I'll climb. The top is close. There's time. There's time. [Verse 1 — quiet male voice, unhurried, the heartbeat keeping slow watch] I found a room inside the ridge, a hollow out of all that wind. I'll rest my eyes. I'll count my breath. The rope went on. They'll come again. The stone is cold, but cold is kind — it holds you when you fall behind. [Chorus — soft stacked voices, a lullaby sung at altitude] Don't wake me yet — the wind's still high. I'll catch the line by morning light. The ones who pass walk soft and slow — how kind of them to whisper so. Five more minutes. Maybe ten. The mountain isn't going anywhere. [Verse 2 — the heartbeat slower, the voice dreamier] At night the lanterns climb in rows, I count them drifting past like sheep. One... two... they nod... eleven... twelve... they always help me back to sleep. And every dream, I make the top — I plant my flag. I never stop. [Chorus] Don't wake me yet — the wind's still high. I'll catch the line by morning light. The ones who pass walk soft and slow — how kind of them to whisper so. Five more minutes. Maybe ten. The mountain isn't going anywhere. [Bridge — the drone thins to almost nothing, voice unadorned, awake for one clear moment] The snow has deepened. Melted. Deepened. My watch has stopped. The stars still turn. Ten thousand lanterns, one by one, have wished me warm and carried on. They cannot lift me — I know why: up here the air won't hold goodbye. They know my boots. They don't know me. That's all right. The boots will do. Whoever waits where air is thick — I was almost through. I was almost through. [Final Chorus — barely above a whisper, the voices thinning like oxygen] Don't wake me yet — the sun's still low. The first light finds me first, you know. The ones who pass walk soft and slow — how kind of them to whisper so. [Outro — the heartbeat almost gone, the lullaby line repeating, each time smaller, never finishing] Five more minutes. Maybe ten. Five more minutes. Maybe ten. Five more minutes...
