[Intro – lonely sad flute, soft atmospheric pulse] I never asked the night to tell me who I am. I already knew. Sometimes a sign is only sent to say— you were right. [Verse 1 – intimate female vocal] There by the water you were waiting, ancient eyes were watching me. I flew straight into your silence, then curved away instinctively. But something kept on pulling me back, like you were calling without a sound. And when you opened up your wings— I was you, while you looked at me. [Sad flute interlude – haunting, breathy, Egyptian touch] [Chorus – emotional, hypnotic] Hoatzin… lead me through the ages, Benu rising from the flame. Phoenix burning into morning, different wings, an ancient name. Then the grey heron by the water leads me back to Osiris. And Sirius shines above us— a symbol of what we are. I didn’t need another answer. I already knew inside. But sometimes even knowing needs a sign within the night. [Verse 2 – fragile, almost whispered] Benu… Phoenix… silent heron… one by one they lead me home. Not to show me something different, but confirm what I have known. Two bodies, one light, one star— Sirius, the star that we are. [Bridge – voice breaking softly + solitary sad flute] Maybe you weren’t an answer. Maybe you were an echo. A bird beside the water whispering without words: You know. You always knew. [Final Chorus – emotional rise, flute answering the vocal] Hoatzin… open up your wings, carry the memory through the night. Benu, Phoenix, grey-winged heron— lead me toward that ancient light. I don’t need to ask who I am. I don’t need another sign. But somehow it still breaks my heart when the universe answers mine. [Outro – lonely sad flute, slowly fading] I already knew… I already knew…
