[Verse 1] (quiet, voice + single guitar) They counted the missiles, not the cost to rebuild Concrete and copper where the rubble used to spill Cranes on the skyline, contracts in our hands Whoever owns the after — owns the land [Pre-Chorus] And nobody sings for the ones left behind No anthem for the ones still trying to find A roof, a name, a reason to stay — So I'll sing it instead, in my own broken way [Chorus] (full band, distortion swells) Reconstruction's the prize, not the war Ownership of the after is worth so much more New ports, new lines, a currency bleeds While the old empires count their fading needs And I'm still here — singing for the ghosts Singing for the cities that nobody knows [Verse 2] (bass + voice only) Multipolar morning, the old maps undone Gulf and Asia trading from dusk into dawn Sovereign funds rising, swap lines in the wind Paid in a currency that isn't ours again [Pre-Chorus] And nobody mourns what the headlines erase No requiem written for a faceless place So I'll hold the verse like a candle that's lit For everyone counted as a footnote, a digit [Chorus] (bigger, vocal doubling, slight rasp) Reconstruction's the prize, not the war The financial machine wins — that's the whole score Insurance, logistics, the steel and the deal The ones who rebuild are the only ones who feel real And I'm still here — singing for the ghosts Singing for the cities that nobody, nobody knows [Bridge] (strip to piano/guitar, voice cracking; tempo lifts mid-way) Who runs the wires, who reads the trail Who builds the reactors, who brokers the sale Solar fields burning under a watching sky Surveillance in the static of every lullaby BRICS and the council, the new and the old Drawing the borders that nobody's told Decoupling, reshaping — word by word, mouth by mouth And I'm just a voice in the dust drifting south [Final Chorus] (full wall of sound, near-scream dropping to almost nothing) Reconstruction's the prize, not the war Somebody always profits — that's the whole score After the smoke clears, ask who's still standing Ask who was building before they were landing And I'm still here — singing for the ghosts Singing for the cities that nobody, nobody knows [Outro] (whisper, fading) After the smoke clears Somebody profits still Ask who's holding the contracts Ask who's footing the bill ...nobody knows... nobody knows
