[Intro | brief breathy wooden flute + sparse dry wooden percussion + restrained bass pulse] [Verse 1 | restrained, tense] Rain runs cold along the stone, smoke hangs low above the roofs. We still hear the feast fall silent, still see where the dancers fell. Beneath the rain the hoofbeats soften, shadows bending toward the west. No one needs to name the movement. Every face around us knows: They're leaving. [Pre-Chorus | tension rising] My hands are cold. My mouth is dry. Then somewhere in the dark, a cry. Another answers farther on— and suddenly we're running. [Chorus | powerful clean lead | short male unison responses] YOU WILL HEAR US NOW! (On the stone!) (On the water!) You meant to leave before we knew. Now every stroke and every footfall comes alive around the road. YOU WILL HEAR US NOW! You don't cross this night alone. [Verse 2 | stronger rhythmic drive] Paddles bite the blackened water, wet wood burns against our palms. Tenochca feet strike on the causeway, Tlatelolca voices answer. Steel flashes white inside the rain. Horses shoulder hard ahead. A Tlaxcalan shield moves through the dark beside a Spanish blade. No clean line divides this night. Only people trying not to fall. [Pre-Chorus | harder, more urgent] One voice beside me falls away. I have no time to turn. My arms are shaking from the stroke— another canoe comes in. [Chorus | full band | male unison responses] YOU WILL HEAR US NOW! (On the stone!) (On the water!) You meant to leave before we knew. Now every stroke and every footfall comes alive around the road. YOU WILL HEAR US NOW! You don't cross this night alone. [Instrumental Turn | brief breathy wooden flute accent + percussion pulse] [Verse 3 | heavy, relentless] The road is shaking under bodies. Timber groans and will not move. Men behind keep pushing forward. Men ahead are forced to turn. Packs tear open. Gold goes under. Horse and rider lose their feet. They fight hard enough to kill us— but they cannot make the road grow wide. [Bridge | rising emotional pressure] At first I feared the rain would hide them before we ever reached the road. Now I hear their order thinning, voices pulling far apart. They still strike. And we still bleed. But every cut through stone and water tears another piece away. [Aggressive Guitar Solo | sharp, driving, relentless] [Final Chorus | strongest clean belt | male unison responses] YOU WILL HEAR US NOW! (On the stone!) (On the water!) You meant to leave before we knew. Now every stroke and every footfall comes alive around the road. YOU WILL HEAR US NOW! Keep moving west. You don't cross this night alone. [Outro | exhausted but steady | sung] First light lies across the wet stone. Their survivors still move west. We have lost voices in the darkness we will never hear again. But when we turn back toward the houses— they are no longer inside.
