Tears in the Mud (Heavy Water) [Intro: slow tape hiss, sparse muddy acoustic guitar, slow heartbeat bass drum] [Spoken/Mumbled] Fifty miles out of Albertville... Air's thick as oil today. [Verse 1: raspy, exhausted male baritone, slow tempo] Getting paid in Belgian francs to bleed upon this soil, We don't ask about the politics, we don't care who's to blame. Just a bunch of ghost-eyed bastards with a rifle and a name. Watching boats across the water, slipping through the dark, Smuggling the devil's cargo, trying to leave a mark. There's a sickness in the jungle, but it ain't the kind you cure, When the men who fight for nothing find out nothing is secure. [Pre-Chorus: building tension, gritty electric guitar sliding in] Used to be they charged us blind, yelling 'bout the dawa, Thinking magic stopped the bullets in the unforgiving flora. But now they hold the line... eyes cold and dead. Got those blue stones in their pockets, messing with my head. [Chorus: heavy fuzz guitar, loud, desperate but cynical] And they call 'em the Tears of Tanganyika! Little blue stones in the mud and the blood. They say it gives 'em courage, they say it kills the fear, But all I feel is numb when the dark water draws near. Yeah, my will is rusting out, just like my gun, Fighting someone else's war under a bleeding sun. [Verse 2: tempo drops slightly, close-mic, intimate and eerie] Every time I pull the trigger, my finger feels like lead. Like the atmosphere is heavy, stealing words I never said. I came here for the money, I stayed because I'm lost, But there's something in the wind here, calculating the cost. It ain't just the malaria, it ain't the local gin, It's an emptiness of spirit, creeping under the skin. [Chorus: full instrumentation, loud, chaotic] And they call 'em the Tears of Tanganyika! Little blue stones in the mud and the blood. They say it gives 'em courage, they say it kills the fear, But all I feel is numb when the dark water draws near. Yeah, my will is rusting out, just like my gun, Fighting someone else's war under a bleeding sun. [Bridge: dissonant chords, tempo slows down, claustrophobic] We're just shadows on the shoreline. Fading in the mist. Men without a country, in a world that shouldn't exist. Look into the sapphire... watch the fire die. Can't remember how to fight. Can't remember why. [Guitar Solo: distorted, bluesy, emotionally strained and pitchy] [Outro: fading instrumentation, returning to the lonely acoustic guitar and tape hiss] Just little blue stones... Dead eyes. Heavy hands. Keep the francs, major... I can't feel my hands. [Fading to silence, low ambient hum]
