FW 190 — BUTCHER BIRD: WINGS OF IRON

[Intro — shouted male choir; engine roar becomes the guitar rhythm] BUTCHER BIRD! WINGS OF IRON! I AM THUNDER IN YOUR HANDS! [Verse 1 — deep, gritty male vocals; heavy driving riff] They pulled the covers from my shoulders, Wiped the frost from every seam. Fourteen cylinders awakened— Shook the tools beside the team. He climbed aboard with shaking fingers, Drew the harness to his chest. I could feel his boots against the pedals; I would have to do the rest. [Pre-Chorus — rising male harmonies; pounding toms] The chocks come free— The throttle opens! The grass falls backward— The ground lets go! He lifts his eyes above the treeline— And I take everything below! [Chorus — towering male lead; enormous male choir] BUTCHER BIRD! WINGS OF IRON! I AM THUNDER IN YOUR HANDS! Roll the horizon, Tear through the silence— Feel me answer your command! Through the fire, through the fighters, Till the last hard round is gone— FOCKE-WULF! ONE-NINETY! HOLD ON! HOLD ON! [Verse 2 — aggressive delivery; galloping guitars] A flash of wings against the cloud bank, Then the sky comes tearing loose. He rolls me hard; the world turns sideways, And the tracers follow through. Four cannon shudder in my shoulders; Empty casings tumble clear. He calls a name into the headset— Only breathing in his ear. [Pre-Chorus — strings climbing; forceful male belts] The rounds strike home— My metal opens! The wind gets teeth— The gauges fall! He holds the stick with both hands shaking— And I still answer when he calls! [Chorus — full orchestra; thunderous double kick] BUTCHER BIRD! WINGS OF IRON! I AM THUNDER IN YOUR HANDS! Roll the horizon, Tear through the silence— Feel me answer your command! Through the fire, through the fighters, Till the last hard round is gone— FOCKE-WULF! ONE-NINETY! HOLD ON! HOLD ON! [Bridge — half-time; intimate low male vocal; distant choir] They paint the numbers on my body, Count the victories on my tail. But I remember hands that trembled When the engine note grew frail. I have felt the weight of silence From an empty place in flight. Every name that vanished from the radio Rides beneath my skin tonight. [Breakdown — crushing groove; shouted male call and response] STEEL IN THE ENGINE! FIRE IN THE VEINS! HOLD TOGETHER! TAKE THE STRAIN! WINGS FULL OF DAYLIGHT! COWLING FULL OF SMOKE! HE’S STILL BREATHING— I’M NOT BROKEN! [Guitar Solo — 16 bars; heavy melodic lead into blazing twin harmonies] [Final Build — restrained baritone rising to a roar] There’s a field beyond the forest; There’s a road beside the trees. He can barely move his shoulder, But his hands are still on me. Let the wheels come down beneath us, Let them take the weight I bear. I have one more thing to carry— One more life out of the air! [Final Chorus — massive male lead; choir and full orchestra] BUTCHER BIRD! WINGS OF IRON! I AM THUNDER IN YOUR HANDS! Roll the horizon, Tear through the silence— Feel me answer your command! Through the fire, through the fighters, With the last hard round long gone— FOCKE-WULF! ONE-NINETY! HOLD ON! HOLD ON! [Outro — instruments fall away; low male voice] He leaves his hand upon my cowling Till the metal’s cool again. They will count the holes tomorrow. Tonight— He walks away. [Final full-band strike; male choir] WINGS OF IRON!