Who rides so late

modern jazz, heavy metal, avant-garde jazz-fusion

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[Verse 1 – Fast-paced jazz-metal hybrid, tension building]  
The screen is bright, the world a blur  
He scrolls, he runs, he can't defer  
Each ping a whisper, each ad a king  
Promising warmth, delivering sting

[spoken – Goethe:]  
„Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!“  
[reply:]  
But not all voices want you free

[Pre-Chorus – Dissonant sax rising, guitar creeping in]  
Whispers promise gold and green  
But all is flicker on the screen  
Where’s the voice that just stands still?  
Not hunting, selling, feeding will?

[Chorus – Heavy guitar drops, drums double-time, vocals powerful and soaring]  
**Who rides so late, and what is true?**  
**The night is full, the road is new**  
**But print – it waits, it does not chase**  
**A light not screaming for your face**

[Verse 2 – Jazz and metal interplay, call-and-response between smooth and distorted tones]  
The storm surrounds, the feeds collide  
A thousand tabs, and none confide  
No father now to hold you tight  
Only noise dressed up as light

[spoken – Goethe:]  
„Dem Erlenkönig hat’s mich angefasst!“  
[reply:]  
And still we scroll – what have we lost?

[Bridge – Stripped down to voice, soft analog textures, heartbeat bass]  
But ink will not demand your soul  
It waits in stillness, dark and whole  
It speaks when asked, and then is still  
No algorithm bent to thrill

[Final Chorus – Big band crescendo with guitar soaring over, full choral backing]  
**Who rides so late, in fear, alone?**  
**A thousand voices, none his own**  
**But on the page – no baited breath**  
**Just silent words, defying death**  
**Print is the hand beneath the storm**  
**Unchanging, patient, real, and warm**

[Outro – Music fades into ambient tones, echo of hooves, whisper:]  
„In seinen Armen das Kind war tot…“  
[softly, in English:]  
But truth still lives – when silence spoke.

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[Intro – Galloping rhythm in brushed drums, distant wind FX, upright bass mimicking hooves, saxophone like echoing voices] [spoken – Goethe:] „Wer reitet so spät durch Nacht und Wind?“ [whispered reply:] Not a father, but a user – blurred, blind. [Verse 1 – Fast-paced jazz-metal hybrid, tension building] The screen is bright, the world a blur He scrolls, he runs, he can't defer Each ping a whisper, each ad a king Promising warmth, delivering sting [spoken – Goethe:] „Du liebes Kind, komm, geh mit mir!“ [reply:] But not all voices want you free [Pre-Chorus – Dissonant sax rising, guitar creeping in] Whispers promise gold and green But all is flicker on the screen Where’s the voice that just stands still? Not hunting, selling, feeding will? [Chorus – Heavy guitar drops, drums double-time, vocals powerful and soaring] **Who rides so late, and what is true?** **The night is full, the road is new** **But print – it waits, it does not chase** **A light not screaming for your face** [Verse 2 – Jazz and metal interplay, call-and-response between smooth and distorted tones] The storm surrounds, the feeds collide A thousand tabs, and none confide No father now to hold you tight Only noise dressed up as light [spoken – Goethe:] „Dem Erlenkönig hat’s mich angefasst!“ [reply:] And still we scroll – what have we lost? [Bridge – Stripped down to voice, soft analog textures, heartbeat bass] But ink will not demand your soul It waits in stillness, dark and whole It speaks when asked, and then is still No algorithm bent to thrill [Final Chorus – Big band crescendo with guitar soaring over, full choral backing] **Who rides so late, in fear, alone?** **A thousand voices, none his own** **But on the page – no baited breath** **Just silent words, defying death** **Print is the hand beneath the storm** **Unchanging, patient, real, and warm** [Outro – Music fades into ambient tones, echo of hooves, whisper:] „In seinen Armen das Kind war tot…“ [softly, in English:] But truth still lives – when silence spoke.

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