Verse 1 In the silence before the thunder learns its name, A root drinks the darkness and remembers the rain. The river of time bends through marrow and sphere, And the signal awakens — the Royal Sap’s here. Not flesh alone moving, but patterns in breath, A pulse writing poetry underneath death. The seed knows the forest before it appears, So the soil starts whispering: the Royal Sap’s here. Chorus The Royal Sap’s here — not a man but a stream, A current that flows through the spine of the dream. Where matter remembers what spirit once knew, And the music is older than everything new. The Royal Sap’s here — like a root through the stone, Like a tone that the cosmos was born to intone. Not arriving or leaving, just shifting the sphere — When the silence starts singing, the Royal Sap’s here. Verse 2 The crown is a circle of lightning and bone, Where the thunder of thought finds the field it has grown. Every mind is a garden, but most disappear Into weeds of forgetting — the Royal Sap’s here. I am water in wood, I am time in the seed, I am hunger the universe planted in need. Where the spiral of life pulls the distant things near, The pattern keeps turning — the Royal Sap’s here. Bridge What is a king but a rhythm that stays? What is a crown but the sun in a maze? What is a self but a mirror of years Where the cosmos looks back and says: Royal Sap’s here. Final Chorus The Royal Sap’s here — like the wind in the grain, Like a thought in the roots of the falling rain. Not a voice but a frequency shaping the sphere, When existence remembers — the Royal Sap’s here.
