[Intro: Fast, circular acoustic guitar strumming in an open tuning; a single, ringing electric note drones in the background, mimicking wind over a ridge] [Verse 1: Melodic bass line enters, carrying the rhythm; vocals are low, conversational, and detached] Yellow visors Flashes in the pine Disposable camera clicks three times Polaroid fading on the dashboard heat Soft shoes shuffling on the gravel street Faces look up (Faces look up) Offering their names to the mountain air [Refrain: Guitars drop out sharply; only a pulsing bass and a crisp snare hit accompany the vocal] We carved our sins into the mountain's brow And now the rock is learning how to weep The rock is learning how to weep [Verse 2: Rickenbacker electric guitar enters with bright, arpeggiated chords; vocal delivery becomes more urgent, open-voweled] Ice cream melting on a plastic spoon The heavy violet of an afternoon A million whispers in a single day Granite drinks what they throw away Every divorce (Every dynamic spark) Every quiet prayer in the dark Sinking into the pores [Instrumental Break 1: An 8-bar melodic electric guitar solo, sharp and chiming, mimicking a hawk caught in a thermal over a gorge; the bass drives underneath] [Verse 3: Rhythm section drops to a muted, ticking pulse; vocals are a near-whisper, right against the microphone] Tectonic shift A century of dust Iron in the water starting to rust No speech, no turning away Holding the weight of what we say Lincoln's eye (Jefferson's jaw) Swallowing the things that the camera saw [Chorus: Full sonic explosion; acoustic guitar strummed hard, tambourine driving the tempo; soaring, wordless backup vocals] Open wide, let the tourists stare (Ah-ah-ah) The giant battery of our despair (Ah-ah-ah) We carved our sins into the mountain's brow And now the rock is learning how to weep (The rock is learning how to weep) The rock is learning how to weep [Outro: The acoustic guitar and drums stop instantly on a hard stop; the Rickenbacker electric guitar holds a single, discordant, ringing chord that slowly degrades into feedback and hum, like a car radio losing its signal in the Black Hills]
