I haul the granite from the quarry floor, And dress the edges with an iron wedge. Mortar sets on the parapet ledge, Sealing the postern door. (postern door) A copper bolt secures the oak crossbeam. Battered shields hang on the limestone wall, Gravel crunches in the vaulted hall, I ration barley by the stream. Arrow slits admit a thread of gray, Enough to count the sacks of winter rye. The moat is dry, (moat is dry) No ram can splinter through the clay. The citadel holds firm against the frost, Six cubits thick of mortared fieldstone. (mortared stone!) I tend the hearth upon an ashlar throne, And tally what it cost. Lichens encrust the battlements above. Rust consumes the pulleys on the grate, I oil the winches of the gate And grip the flintlock with a leather glove. The cellar stores the salted boar and brine, Protected from the siege and torch's flare. I breathe the stagnant, chalky cellar air, And drink the soured wine. (soured wine) The citadel holds firm against the frost, Six cubits thick of mortared fieldstone. (mortared stone!) I tend the hearth upon an ashlar throne, And tally what it cost. The plumb line hangs beside the mason's square, Confirming every course is true and straight. The fortress bears its own estate, Too fortified to share. The citadel holds firm against the frost, Six cubits thick of mortared fieldstone. I tend the hearth upon an ashlar throne, And tally what it cost. I wedge a flagstone in the vent, And pack the cracks with wetted lime. (wetted lime) The tallow candle measures time Within the walls my hands cement. ----------- [Instrumental][Time Signature: 13/8] [Tempo: 139 BPM] [Instrumental Intro: frantic acoustic guitar and weeping viola] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am(maj7)] [Bdim7] [Caug(maj7)] [D#dim7] [E7] [Am] [Verse 1: raw upfront baritone, driving acoustic rhythm] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am] I haul the granite [D#dim7] from the quarry [E7] floor, [Am] And dress the edges [Caug] with an iron [F] wedge. [D#dim7] Mortar sets on [E7] the parapet [Am] ledge, [F] Sealing the [E7] postern [Am(maj7)] door. (postern door) [Verse 2: continuous guitar picking and active drums] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am] A copper bolt se-[D#dim7]-cures the oak cross-[E7]-beam. [Am] Battered shields hang [Caug] on the limestone [F] wall, [D#dim7] Gravel crunches [E7] in the vaulted [Am] hall, [F] I ration [E7] barley by the [Am(maj7)] stream. [Pre-Chorus: rising viola tension and upright bass] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am] Arrow slits ad-[D#dim7]-mit a thread of [E7] gray, [F] Enough to count the [D#dim7] sacks of winter [E7] rye. [Am] The moat is [Caug] dry, (moat is dry) [D#dim7] No ram can splinter [E7] through the [Am] clay. [Chorus: intense vocal harmonies and heavy percussion] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am] The citadel holds [F] firm against the [E7] frost, [Am] Six cubits thick of [D#dim7] mortared field-[E7]-stone. (mortared stone!) [F] I tend the hearth up-[Caug]-on an ashlar [Dm#11] throne, [Am] And tally [E7] what it [Am] cost. [Verse 3: gritty vocal delivery and active bassline] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am] Lichens encrust the [D#dim7] battlements a-[E7]-bove. [Am] Rust consumes the [Caug] pulleys on the [F] grate, [D#dim7] I oil the [E7] winches of the [Am] gate [F] And grip the flintlock [E7] with a leather [Am(maj7)] glove. [Pre-Chorus: aggressive bowed bass and frantic strumming] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am] The cellar stores the [D#dim7] salted boar and [E7] brine, [F] Protected from the [D#dim7] siege and torch's [E7] flare. [Am] I breathe the stagnant, [Caug] chalky cellar [F] air, [D#dim7] And drink the [E7] soured [Am] wine. (soured wine) [Chorus: full acoustic ensemble and visceral vocals] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am] The citadel holds [F] firm against the [E7] frost, [Am] Six cubits thick of [D#dim7] mortared field-[E7]-stone. (mortared stone!) [F] I tend the hearth up-[Caug]-on an ashlar [Dm#11] throne, [Am] And tally [E7] what it [Am] cost. [Bridge: weeping viola and pounding frame drums] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am] The plumb line hangs be-[D#dim7]-side the mason's [E7] square, [F] Confirming every [Caug] course is true and [Dm#11] straight. [D#dim7] The fortress bears its [E7] own es-[Am]-tate, [F] Too forti-[D#dim7]-fied to [E7] share. [Chorus: driving percussion and resonant baritone] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am] The citadel holds [F] firm against the [E7] frost, [Am] Six cubits thick of [D#dim7] mortared field-[E7]-stone. [F] I tend the hearth up-[Caug]-on an ashlar [Dm#11] throne, [Am] And tally [E7] what it [Am] cost. [Final Chorus: intense vocal delivery] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Deep Voice] [Am] I wedge a flagstone [D#dim7] in the [E7] vent, [Am] And pack the cracks with [Caug] wetted [F] lime. (wetted lime) [D#dim7] The tallow candle [E7] measures [Am] time [F] Within the walls my [E7] hands ce-[Am]-ment. [Instrumental Outro: fading instruments] [Key: A Hungarian Minor] [Am(maj7)] [D#dim7] [E7] [Am] [Hard Stop] [End]
