[track: genre: Industrial Americana, style: Aero-Blues, mood: Dangerous, tempo: moderate, vocals: gritty male, instruments: dobro, mechanical percussion] [intro | style: mechanical rhythm, instrument: ticking banjo, build: engine rev] [verse 1 | dynamics: low, articulation: staccato, texture: dry, vocals: deadpan] You kicked the chocks to clear the strut You claimed the harness held you down But now the throttle's open shut And there's no tarmac in this town [pre-chorus | rhythm: accelerando, intensity: rising, drums: rolling] The fuselage begins to shake The shear is more than you can take [chorus | mood: anthemic-warning, harmony: wide, vocals: layered, motif: engine roar] You love that mixture-too-lean scream Climbing past the ceiling light Living in a dead-stick dream Ignored the gauge to feel the height [verse 2 | rhythm: syncopated, bass: pulsing, vocals: gritty] The aileron is humming low The intake gasps for thicker air You've nowhere left for mass to go You left the rudder back down there A canvas lung begins to moan A pilot on a throne of bone [pre-chorus | rhythm: accelerando, intensity: high, drums: rolling] The shudder travels through the spar You pushed the nose a bit too far [chorus | mood: desperate, harmony: dissonant, vocals: belting, motif: engine cough] Now hear that sputter in the prop The heavy-g begins to weigh You reached the ceiling and the top But threw the landing-gear away [bridge | atmosphere: ethereal, tempo: half-time, sound: wind-shear] Roll the blue and level out The cloud-bank looks like solid ground But air is just a liar's floor You filled the wing with nothing And now the glider falls [outro | effect: fade-out, sound: sputtering engine, end: sudden, motif: silence] The piston quits The canvas splits The engine sits
