[94 BPM] | [Progressive Metal] | [E minor] [Mood: Restless] [Energy: Building] [Intro | downtuned riff in 7 | phaser-drenched second guitar drifting a beat behind | bass counter-line | drums accenting riff hits] [Verse 1 | low controlled tenor, half-spoken, behind the beat | riff in 7 | bass moving against it] No such thing as a stupid question, But too much nothing is a vapid suggestion, And for such a lingering and varied gestation, Until at last is born the alleged query, Fulfilling fast a worn-out allegory, Thrilling pastime, these torn-out categories. [Pre-Chorus | riff tightening | second guitar dropping out | drums building | abrupt full-band silence on the last word] I've often wished a question could be pulled back in. I've often wished. [Chorus | resolving to 4 | full band | strained sustained line | Energy: Building] Unasked for. There's a rabbit hole and I dug it, There's an answer and I asked for it, And soft — what a thing to be unmasked for. Unasked for. [Verse 2 | riff returning in 7 | vocal level | bass forward | drums accenting] Of all that which could be left unspoken, The falling flat, the stalling, the switch, the token, The mood I lose, the facts war, the small hand open, It's galling how we're calling out positions, Code-switching just to see who acts more serious, And I was mostly curious. And I was mostly curious. [Pre-Chorus | riff tightening | drums building | abrupt silence] I've often wished a question could be pulled back in. I've often wished. [Chorus | resolving to 4 | full band | Energy: Building] Unasked for. There's a rabbit hole and I dug it, There's an answer and I asked for it, And soft — what a thing to be unmasked for. Unasked for. [Instrumental | riff in 7 repeating unchanged | second guitar drifting further behind each pass | bass climbing | drums thickening | no solo, no variation | Energy: Building] [Bridge | half-time | riff dropping to a single palm-muted note | drums sparse | vocal close and almost spoken] The question on the tip of my tongue, kept forever, A bastion on the flip side of the wrong political lever, And I could have let it sit there. I could have let it lie. I had it in my hand and I had a hundred better. [Verse 3 | riff returning | vocal closest and most exposed | drums entering late] It was asking your advice, it was hearing your reply, It was a small and civil price and then the nausea and the fever, It was watching something clean go crooked in the light, And I can't unhear the answer and I can't unsee the speaker, And I have to hold them both now, and they don't fit in a life — The you I had before it. The you that gave the answer. [Breakdown | everything cuts to silence — no drone, no reverb tail, no held note | vocal spoken dry and level | Energy: Low] I asked. Nobody made me. It took four seconds and I've had it ever since. [Final Chorus | staying in 7 | never resolving to 4 | full band | Energy: Building] Unasked for. There's a rabbit hole and I dug it, There's an answer and I asked for it, And soft — what a thing to be unmasked for. Unasked for. [Outro | riff continuing in 7 with no resolution | second guitar drifting out of time | drums stopping first | riff cut off mid-bar]
