NONLOCAL [INTRO — FRACTURED ORGAN / LOW SONAR / CHILD CHOIR] VOICE: When did it begin? CHOIR: When the bells rang. VOICE: That's when you noticed. CHOIR: Mh-mhm-mh... VOICE: I asked when it began. [VERSE I — BOOM-BAP / CRACKLING ARCHIVE] Fifteen sixty-one. Nürnberg. Crosses near the sun; the woodcut held a battle, though no soldier said he'd won. Eighteen ninety-seven. A glow beside the track; they printed “AIRSHIP” at first light, then watched the ink turn black. A cross became a warning. A lantern gained a crew; the sky kept silent while the ink decided what was true. No document of entry. No record of a flight. Just someone looking up at last and writing down the sight. [HOOK I — DISTANT CHILDREN / ONE BELL] Ah-ah-ah, write it down. Oh-oh-oh, pass it round. Mm-mhm-mh, ink the frame. Na-na-na, give it a name. We called the light arrival. We gave the sky a date. No witness saw it starting— each witness looked too late. [VERSE II — ENGINE STALL / GEESE IN THE DISTANCE] Fifty-seven. Levelland. An engine lost its spark; the driver saw a light withdraw, then started in the dark. Sixty-four. Socorro. A roar cut short the chase; the officer left the road toward a scorched and empty place. Sixty-seven. Falcon Lake. The geese began to cry; a man who'd watched the stones all day looked suddenly at the sky. Three ordinary lives, interrupted mid-routine; they marked the point they noticed it—not what had gone unseen. [HOOK II — ADULT VOICES / MOTOR PULSE] Ah-ah-ah, hear the call. Oh-oh-oh, watch it stall. Mm-mhm-mh, count the sound. Na-na-na, test the ground. We called the noise a warning. We called the pause a sign. What if the thing was there before we ever crossed its line? [VERSE III — MILITARY RADIO / TEMPO DOUBLES] Westall, sixty-six. A shimmer near the trees; a pupil drew a teacher out into the midday breeze. Tehran, seventy-six. The fighter lost its tone; he turned away, the radio returned as if on loan. Hessdalen, eighty-four. A laser met a blink; the rhythm seemed to change—enough to make them think. A change can look like language. A flash can look like choice. We dressed a pulse in syllables and lent the light a voice. [HOOK III — CHOIR SPLITS / HARD SUB] Ah-ah-ah, break the code. Oh-oh-oh, change the mode. Mm-mhm-mh, watch the glow. Na-na-na, let it go. We called the blink an answer. We gave the silence speech. The light could change its rhythm; its source stayed out of reach. [VERSE IV — EMPTY SCHOOLROOM / TAPE SLOWS] Ninety-four. In Ruwa. The children left their class; beyond the fence some saw a shape between the trees and grass. One child recalled a figure. One remembered only glare; the warnings found their language in the years that followed there. Twenty thirteen. Hessdalen. The watchers went to bed; a camera kept recording while the hills went dark instead. No witness stood beside the lens, no child to make a claim; the camera gathered seconds that contained a distant flame. [BREAKDOWN — EVERY INSTRUMENT CUTS] VOICE: Before the light? FIRST: Wings. VOICE: Before the wings? SECOND: I couldn't tell. VOICE: Before the warning? THIRD: We heard the bell. VOICE: And before the bell? Mh-mhm-mh... [BUILD — CHOIR COUNTS OUT OF SYNC] Bird / circuit. Lens / stone. Who counted the hours that passed alone? Eye / shutter. Wire / wing. How can you date an unseen thing? [FINAL HOOK — CHILDREN REPLACE ADULTS] Ah-ah-ah, shade the glass. Oh-oh-oh, let it pass. Mm-mhm-mh, keep the tape. Na-na-na, hold the shape. We called the dark departure. We called the tape the end. We drew a border round the hours we couldn't comprehend. [OUTRO — SINGLE SCHOOL BELL / OPEN MICROPHONE] VOICE: So when did it stop? CHILD: That's where the recording ends. [Tape cuts before the bell fades.]
