[Intro – big drums from the top, toms and stomps, khoomei drone, gang voices under] (four heavy tom hits, then the band drops in full — stomping, marching, shakers, a low gang hum) Gang (low, chanted under the drums): Head down. Head down. Head down. Head down. Lead (spoken-sung, half-shouted, riding the rhythm): Walk the street — (head down) Ride the bus — (head down) In the pub — (head down) In the queue — (head down) Eyes on glass. Thumbs on fire. Souls on sale to the cheapest buyer. Nobody looks. Nobody nods. Nobody greets. Nobody knows you anymore. (drums punch to a stop — single bell toll — silence for a beat) [Pre-Verse – spoken soft over the bell's decay, khoomei drone, no drums yet] There was a time you tipped your hat. There was a time you held the door. There was a time a how d'you do meant I see you, and you matter. Good morning, neighbour. Evening, friend. Hey bud. Hey dude. What's up, man? A nod. A handshake. A name remembered. That was decency. Small. Daily. Free. That was what it meant to be a human being in a room with other human beings. (drums crash back in, marching tempo) [Verse 1 – slow marching drum, sparse, spoken with contempt] Walk the high street, count the faces — not a one of them looks up. Pass a hundred fellow humans, get a hundred bowing skulls. Used to be a morning, love from the baker at the door. Used to be a careful, pal from the stranger on the stair. Used to be a world of little kindnesses, and a world that knew you were there. Now the door slams on the mother. Now the seat stays took from the old. Now the thank you dies unanswered 'cause nobody heard it told. Head down. Head down. Head down in the café, in the car, in the crib — a whole generation that forgot how to act like people. [Pre-Chorus – drums push harder, khoomei drone swells, gang ooohs underneath] The box is the teacher now. The box is the preacher now. The box is the lover, the father, the friend. The box is the paycheque, the pulpit, the end. And your eyes — your eyes are the currency. Your eyes are the coin. Your eyes are the soul you are selling — and you sold your self-respect for a scroll. [Chorus 1 – big, open, drums full, half-shouted, gang on every syllable] Lead: PUT (Gang: PUT!) Lead: IT (Gang: IT!) Lead: DOWN. (Gang: DOWN!) Tip your hat. Hold the door. Say the name. Look a stranger in the eye like you remember what that means. Lead: PUT (Gang: PUT!) Lead: IT (Gang: IT!) Lead: DOWN. (Gang: DOWN!) How d'you do. How you been. Hey bud. Hey friend. There's a whole world of decency in the words you won't spend. Put it down. Put it down. Put it down. [Verse 2 – drums pull back, bitter, almost whispered] I watched a man die on a livestream. Seven thousand people watching. Not one of them called for help — they were busy reacting with little yellow faces. I watched a girl cry for her mother in a room full of uncles and cousins and cameras. Every phone was raised. Not a single arm. Not a single come here, sweetheart, you're alright. And every street, every bus, every queue — some clown with a phone held out like a sandwich, shouting his business at the sky, broadcasting his voice notes to the whole damn town like the world signed up to listen. It's a phone. It goes to your ear. Not a megaphone. Not a stage. Not a gift to the rest of us trying to hear ourselves think. That's the sickness. That's the plague. That's the death of the oldest thing we had — the basic decency of being a human around another human. [Bridge – drums drop to stomp-and-clap only, gang voices low and close] What is decency? — Saying good morning and meaning it. What is decency? — Holding the door for the one behind you. What is decency? — Phone to your ear. Voice to your own damn self. Eyes up. Eyes open. Eyes on the world. Looking up. Looking up. Looking up. [Instrumental break – khoomei solo, morin khuur bowed, tribal drums return slow and build] [Final Chorus – explosive, ragged, rallying, gang full force, warmer not harder] Lead: LET'S BE (Gang: LET'S BE!) Lead: HUMAN (Gang: HUMAN!) Lead: AGAIN. (Gang: AGAIN!) Tip your hat. Hold the door. Say the name. Greet the baker, greet the stranger, greet the world like it's worth your flame. Lead: LET'S BE (Gang: LET'S BE!) Lead: HUMAN (Gang: HUMAN!) Lead: AGAIN. (Gang: AGAIN!) How d'you do. How you been. Hey bud. Hey friend. There's a whole world of decency in the words you won't spend. Let's be human. Let's be human. Let's be human again. [Outro – drums still driving under, then slowly strip back, spoken raw] Put it down. Look up. Tip your hat to the stranger. Hold the door for the old one. Say good morning to the baker. Say hey bud to the friend. That's the decency they forgot. That's the self-respect we begin. That's just being human in a room with other humans. Let's be human again. (final tom hit. one bell toll. silence.)
