The Sixteen (Vertical) [Intro] (Sparse. A single low pulse, like a distant heartbeat.) [Verse 1] The count is sixteen. Daddy Long-legs The skeletal police of the skirting boards. They don’t look up. They don't need the heights. They hold the line where the wall meets the grain. [Verse 2] They are the "whirl" in the corner. The kinetic ghost. Madam, hold your vertical. Keep your back straight. They do the work I didn't ask for. Intercepting the invaders. The silverfish. The midge. Things that crawl in the dark. [short guitar solo] [Verse 3] Behind the piano, a listener. Behind the drum kit, a hidden spark A Small guy. . Hardly visible in the hardware. The house is clean, but the "ghost prey" is there. They find the gaps The security I didn't hire. [Bridge] Thirty-five meters along the shadow-highway. No mercy for the fly. No romanticization. Just the mechanical precision of the silk. The fire is out. The watch is set. [Outro] (Minimal decay. Piano notes ringing out slowly.) Sixteen spines held rigid against the dust. Hold the vertical. Shatter the past. Sixteen. The house is quiet. The work is done. {end}
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