[Verse 1] At Giza, stone keeps its measured face, A lion watches the desert pass. The northern delta remembers hands That shaped bright metal and raised the plans. [Pre-Chorus] On’s old courts traced the turning sun, Numbers traveled, names were joined. A story threaded through the years, Half in the record, half in the dust. [Chorus] Every city keeps a buried line, Every map draws more than roads. We ask the ground what time has changed, And what the living still call home. [Verse 2] By Cahokia, the earthworks rise In rings that meet the changing skies. On Manhattan, paths beneath the street Hold older footsteps under our feet. [Pre-Chorus] A council ground, a market wall, A trail beneath the avenues. The past is not a single voice; It’s many claims we must listen to. [Chorus] Every city keeps a buried line, Every map draws more than roads. We ask the ground what time has changed, And what the living still call home. [Bridge] A cube beneath the pilgrim’s sky, Four turning signs, a gathered tide. Faith can make a compass true, But no one owns the whole design. [Final Chorus] Every city keeps a buried line, Every map draws more than roads. We honor what the stones can tell, And leave room for what we do not know. [Outro] The ground remembers, wide and deep; We walk with care where histories meet.
