Σίνων εἰμί — The Metamorphosis Was You

[INTRO — BRIEF SUNLIT PSYCHEDELIC OPENING; LOW MALE CHORUS, HALF-TIME; GREEK ANSWERED BY ENGLISH] Σίνων εἰμί. I am Sinon. κακὸν οὔ τι ὑμῖν μητίσομαι. I mean you no harm. κλῦτέ μευ. Hear me. πίθεσθέ μοι. Trust me. [VERSE 1 — CLOSE, WOUNDED, BELIEVABLE] They cut a measure not my own and bound it round my living frame. They praised the wound for fitting well and taught the wound my name. They told me I had been deceived, that innocence was mine. They made obedience beautiful and called surrender brave. [CHORUS — GENTLE, SOLEMN] Σίνων εἰμί. I am Sinon. κακὸν οὔ τι ὑμῖν μητίσομαι. I mean you no harm. κλῦτέ μευ. Hear me. πίθεσθέ μοι. Trust me. [VERSE 2 — RESTRAINED FEAR; EVERY DETAIL CONTROLLED] See the cords around my wrists. See where the bronze has torn. The black ships fled across the sea and left me here at dawn. The high-born kings had spent my body to buy their passage home. I was the least among their spears, left friendless and alone. You saw a bound and beaten stranger. You saw the tears, not how they fell. Your pity asked if I was blameless. My answer fit the question well. Your honor made a gate of mercy. Your goodness drew the bolt. You feared the shame of doubting me. [ALL SOUND STOPS] Troy believed me too. [REVEAL — FULL CHORUS; ORGAN, LOW DRONES, RITUAL DRUMS, DISTORTED ART-ROCK WEIGHT] ἴδμεν ψεύδεα πολλὰ λέγειν ἐτύμοισιν ὁμοῖα. We know how to speak many lies in the likeness of truth. ἴδμεν δ᾽ εὖτ᾽ ἐθέλωμεν ἀληθέα γηρύσασθαι. We know, when we choose, how to utter truth. [VERSE 3 — UPRIGHT, PROUD, DEADLY] Betrayed? That was the role. I wore abandonment for Troy. You made it my immortal face. I was no sacrifice. I was the hand that offered me. The terror in my throat was measured. Every tear arrived on cue. I wore weakness once. Ilium opened. I wore it twice. You opened faster. I laid my throat beneath their bronze and wagered it against a city. Condemn the deed. Do not absolve me by denying me my creed. [VERSE 4 — DRIVING PULSE; ADMIRATION, RIVALRY, VANITY] Odysseus praised me with a doubt and cast it where the chiefs could hear. I saw the hook beneath his tongue, the grave beneath the praise. Ten years the bronze-clad kings had failed. Their glory fed the plain. Honor struck until it bled itself dry. Then falsehood raised hope high. He named the deed no spear could do. He did not name the man. He had no need. I knew precisely what he wanted. It made me want it more. Odysseus forged the blade. I made the blade fair and true. He imagined Troy defeated. I persuaded Troy to agree. [BREAK — COLD CONTEMPT] And now you crown me the greatest warrior. Greatest warrior? You took the laurel from the deed and laid it on the wound. Troy buried your greatest warriors. Troy invited me in. And still I prefer Odysseus of old. He found Achilles among the dead. The greatest warriors are to be found there. He had no cause to seek me there. [VERSE 5 — AN OLD ACTOR JUDGES THE AGES] The Roman gave my shadow sinew. He hated me and saw me whole. Each later age demanded more— another wound, another cause, another mercy— and left less of the man who chose. [BRIDGE — ANGER PEAKS MASSIVE HALF-TIME; FORMAL WRATH] Each age sets its mask upon the dead and calls the mask revealed. How bravely you arraign us. We seldom answer back. Condemn the man I was. Do not invent the man you need. You speak as though your age were final. Time has not judged you yet. You kept my name upon the garment, changed the shape beneath the clothes, then praised your alteration as perfection dressed in prose. Did the maker trust his mask, or merely trust that you would? I cannot tell which insults more. I have no quarrel with a lie. I quarrel with the workmanship. Troy required a better lie. [TURN — ANGER DISSOLVES; HE SEES THE NEW GATE] I mocked the shape you made for me until I saw the gate. You thought you had rebuilt me. You tried to box me in and left me room between. You called the horse redemption. I recognized temptation. I hated what you made of me until I watched you bear it in. [SOFTEN — WISE, GENEROUS, ENTIRELY UNTRUSTWORTHY] Two sides again. Another gate. One trusts the wound. One trusts its doubt. Both watch the actor. Neither searches the horse. I do not mock your mercy. I know what it opens. I do not fear your doubt. I know whom it flatters. I do not lead you from your virtues. I lead you through them. [FINAL — WARM, TIRED, MOST DANGEROUS] Very well. I accept the part. My wounds and pain should be enough. You taught me so. Accept this gift for what it is. My name is Sinon. Trust me. Let me in.