TWO HUNDRED MILES IN [Intro - rainforest ambience, distant hollow-log drum, no modern percussion] [Low Male Voice - close, restrained] Two hundred miles from a marked-out road Heat on my neck, forty pounds in the load No smoke in the sky, no mark on a tree No village for days, just the green and me Then under the rain came a knock from the west Three low hits, then a roll, then a rest I stopped. Listened. There it was again. [Hollow-log drums begin, distant and muffled] [Verse 1] First I thought maybe guides from a camp But no fire, no voices, no kerosene lamp Then something like flute cut clean through the rain One little phrase, then it answered again A wooden note rang, then another replied Then a ladder of pitches climbed up at its side That wasn't some animal scratching a tree Somebody out there was playing for me [Pre-Chorus] No road No wire No smoke No fire No reason for music No people for miles But something deep in that endless green Was playing a groove like I'd never seen [Chorus - full natural percussion enters] Who plays drums where nobody goes? Who keeps time where the black vine grows? Two hundred miles from a light or a road Something in the jungle is carrying the code Who plays low? Who plays high? Who taught the rhythm to multiply? I followed the sound through the roots and the rain Then the whole damn forest started playing again [Verse 2] Closer now Kick from a trunk Crack from a skin Shaker up high Then the flute came in Wooden notes dancing all over the beat Something down low put a pulse in my feet I dropped my pack Got down in the mud Crawled through a curtain of leaf and flood And every ten feet I heard something new Not one instrument A whole damn crew [Double-Time Verse - rapid descriptive delivery, band progressively layering] Big hollow trunk with the heartwood burned Hide pulled tight till the low end turned Thin skin stretched on a smaller frame Dry vine underneath gave the backbeat flame Seed pods tied to a braided band Sharp little hiss from a black-furred hand Cane cut short, each length in a row Breath through the bore made the high notes blow Hardwood bars over gourds in a frame Each one tuned, every pitch had a name One gut string on a bentwood bow Gourd at the belly made the bass hang low Stone on stone for the bright top chime Eight separate hands and they landed in time Long reed flute with the finger holes burned One played a phrase and another returned No steel No wire No factory part Just vine Hide Stone Wood Breath Heart [Double-Time abruptly stops] [Hard Silence] [Low Male Voice - whispered] Then I saw them. [Verse 3 - sparse drums return] Seven gorillas in a clearing of wood I stayed on my knees and I froze where I stood One on the drum One working the bow Two on the bars in a staggered row Young one shaking that seed-pod band Another held a flute in one massive hand And dead in the middle silver across his back One hand lifted— [All instruments stop instantly] —and the whole groove cracked. [Silence] He looked at the drummer. Looked at the flute. Then straight through the leaves like he already knew. My lungs locked up. Couldn't make a sound. He dropped one hand— [Full band slams in] —and they shook the fucking ground. [Final Chorus - enormous natural groove, wooden xylophone lead, flute counterline] Who plays drums where nobody goes? Who keeps time where the black vine grows? Two hundred miles from a light or a road Something in the jungle is carrying the code Wood for the rhythm Stone for the chime Hide for the thunder Breath for the line No stage No crowd No spotlight glow Just seven damn apes and a hell of a show [Instrumental Break - gorilla band plays alone] [Hollow-log bass drum] [Skin-drum backbeat] [Seed-pod shaker] [Musical bow bass] [Wooden xylophone] [Bamboo flute] [Stone percussion] [Outro - instruments gradually fall away] [Low Male Voice - backing away, breathless] I left my pack. Left half my gear. Didn't stop walking till the drums disappeared. Then somewhere behind me through the dripping green That flute played a melody I'd been humming all week. [Silence] [Low Male Voice - whispered] They knew. [Single distant flute phrase] [End]
