[Intro — whispered, low drone, distant stomps] Hush now… Don’t wake the mountain. Don’t call its name. Hear that drum in the dirt? That ain’t thunder. [Verse 1] Deep in the timber where the cold wind crawls, Old bones whisper through the evergreen walls, White paint shining on a blackened stone, Something in the valley says, “You’re not alone.” Boots hit dirt with a one-two thump, Bassline growl and the whole woods jump, Branches bend though the air stands still, Hear that low chant rolling down the hill. Lantern swinging, shadows getting long, Every little heartbeat falling into song, No church bell, no preacher in sight, Just a crooked congregation underneath the night. [Pre-Chorus] Step… step… don’t turn around, Feel that rhythm underneath the ground, Low… low… let the black drum roll, The forest keeps what the forest stole. [Chorus — heavy bass drop / stomping chant] HORN! HORN! Hear the old trees call! Jump when the drum makes the dead leaves fall, DOWN! DOWN! Let the bass sink deep, Something in the mountain never went to sleep. Circle gets tighter, fire burns low, Nobody asks where the lost ones go, HORN! HORN! Hear the midnight choir, Stomp to the beat by the dying fire. [Post-Chorus — hypnotic chant] Hey—ha… hey—ha… One step in, no step out. Hey—ha… hey—ha… Hear the woods begin to shout. [Verse 2] Ravens on the fence and a mark on the stone, Wind through the needles like a cracked old tone, Red sky fading behind the ridge, Footprints disappear at the broken bridge. Old man humming with his eyes shut tight, Says, “The hills remember every single night,” Drum made heavy, voices made low, Everybody sways when the north winds blow. No gold crown, no velvet throne, Just antler shadows carved into stone, And when that rhythm hits—BOOM, BOOM, BOOM— Even daylight feels like a borrowed room. [Pre-Chorus] Step… step… hear the roots below, They know things that we shouldn’t know, Low… low… let the black drum roll, The forest keeps what the forest stole. [Chorus] HORN! HORN! Hear the old trees call! Jump when the drum makes the dead leaves fall, DOWN! DOWN! Let the bass sink deep, Something in the mountain never went to sleep. Circle gets tighter, fire burns low, Nobody asks where the lost ones go, HORN! HORN! Hear the midnight choir, Stomp to the beat by the dying fire. [Bridge — stripped-down banjo / bass pulse / whispered vocals] Three knocks on the stone… Four steps through the pine… Five voices whisper… “Your shadow ain’t mine.” No moon. No road. No sound but the drum. Then everybody freezes— ‘Cause something just hummed. [Bass Drop / Jump Section] JUMP! When the branches shake— JUMP! When the black earth wakes— JUMP! Feel the whole ridge bend— Keep that rhythm going Till the night won’t end! [Final Chorus — biggest, layered cult choir] HORN! HORN! Hear the old trees call! Jump when the drum makes the dead leaves fall, DOWN! DOWN! Let the bass sink deep, Something in the mountain never went to sleep. Circle gets tighter, voices grow higher, Shadows dance crooked around the fire, HORN! HORN! Hear the midnight choir, Stamp your feet harder— HIGHER! HIGHER! [Outro — slow, eerie, nearly whispered] When morning comes… There’ll be no choir. No footprints. No fire. Just the stone… The pines… And that rhythm underground. Boom… Boom… Boom…
