Before You Speak

Wizard Mike

Solan Reeve

Wizard Mike

cinematic hybrid orchestral, industrial metal

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V5.5

[Intro – low cello and viola ostinato, tape hiss, granular textures fading in, no percussion]
[English lyrics, male baritone, close-mic, half-spoken]
[low wordless hum, barely audible]

[Verse 1 – half-spoken, chest-driven, no vibrato, sparse, almost seductive]
Stand the way you stand when you're waiting on the news
Shoulders folded inward, chin an inch too low
Now open up the chest, let the shoulders fall behind
And feel it, not in the head, but somewhere down below

[Chorus 1 – full sung chorus, bright and confident, brass swells, choir pads, the promise sung as truth]
Two minutes and you're someone else
The blood believes it, the room believes it too
Stand like a giant and the giant comes
Two minutes is all it takes for you

[Verse 2 – half-spoken, industrial metal percussion enters, analog sub bass, colder, the collapse]
Then the new studies came, and they came in cold
Nothing in the blood, nothing moving in the veins
The miracle that sold a thousand seminars
Became the textbook case of a story that lost to the data

[Bridge – percussion drops out, cello ostinato only, half-spoken, the twist]
And here is the part nobody saw coming
The man who spent years tearing the idea apart
Sat down with the believers and read every trial again
Not to bury it, but to find what was left when the foam went

[Verse 3 – half-spoken, percussion returns quietly, steady, the smaller truth]
No hormones, no bargain won across the table
No rewriting of the chemistry, no hack
But a pattern, small and stubborn, trial after trial
The ones who stood open felt stronger, and the feeling didn't go back

[Chorus 2 – same melody as Chorus 1, fuller arrangement, never shouted, the promise corrected]
Not two minutes, not the blood
Not the room, and not the giant coming through
Just a tool, and not a costume
Two inches of the spine that speak before you do

[Bridge 2 – intimate, close-mic, cello and tape only, the radio corridor]
Hands in my pockets in a hallway outside a radio room
No answers written down, just a subject and a fear
I could hear the posture leaking into the voice I was rehearsing
Apologetic, barely there, asking to be small in here
Then I straightened up, and nothing changed except one message
The body stopped sending: it is time to disappear

[Outro – modal minor lifting to major only in the final bars, choir pads swelling, tape textures dissolving, release through redirection not volume]
When did you last notice how you stand before you speak
Give the body that carries you a little more room than you allow
[spoken, almost whispered, fading into silence]
Not a costume. A tool.
[End]

2615/7500

[Intro – low cello and viola ostinato, tape hiss, granular textures fading in, no percussion] [English lyrics, male baritone, close-mic, half-spoken] [low wordless hum, barely audible] [Verse 1 – half-spoken, chest-driven, no vibrato, sparse, almost seductive] Stand the way you stand when you're waiting on the news Shoulders folded inward, chin an inch too low Now open up the chest, let the shoulders fall behind And feel it, not in the head, but somewhere down below [Chorus 1 – full sung chorus, bright and confident, brass swells, choir pads, the promise sung as truth] Two minutes and you're someone else The blood believes it, the room believes it too Stand like a giant and the giant comes Two minutes is all it takes for you [Verse 2 – half-spoken, industrial metal percussion enters, analog sub bass, colder, the collapse] Then the new studies came, and they came in cold Nothing in the blood, nothing moving in the veins The miracle that sold a thousand seminars Became the textbook case of a story that lost to the data [Bridge – percussion drops out, cello ostinato only, half-spoken, the twist] And here is the part nobody saw coming The man who spent years tearing the idea apart Sat down with the believers and read every trial again Not to bury it, but to find what was left when the foam went [Verse 3 – half-spoken, percussion returns quietly, steady, the smaller truth] No hormones, no bargain won across the table No rewriting of the chemistry, no hack But a pattern, small and stubborn, trial after trial The ones who stood open felt stronger, and the feeling didn't go back [Chorus 2 – same melody as Chorus 1, fuller arrangement, never shouted, the promise corrected] Not two minutes, not the blood Not the room, and not the giant coming through Just a tool, and not a costume Two inches of the spine that speak before you do [Bridge 2 – intimate, close-mic, cello and tape only, the radio corridor] Hands in my pockets in a hallway outside a radio room No answers written down, just a subject and a fear I could hear the posture leaking into the voice I was rehearsing Apologetic, barely there, asking to be small in here Then I straightened up, and nothing changed except one message The body stopped sending: it is time to disappear [Outro – modal minor lifting to major only in the final bars, choir pads swelling, tape textures dissolving, release through redirection not volume] When did you last notice how you stand before you speak Give the body that carries you a little more room than you allow [spoken, almost whispered, fading into silence] Not a costume. A tool. [End]

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