[Intro — field recording: an old film projector rattling, the reel clicking like a slow rhythm, small waves on a pebble beach; then the signature riff: low analog synth, dark and warm, doubled by baritone guitar, solo; no high-pitched sounds, no shrill tones] [Chorus — starts straight away, deep baritone male lead, close to the mic, tight vocal doubles] Muse of salt, nobody knows. Ask her once, she smiles and goes. Muse of salt, the island won't tell. (cut…) [Signature riff returns — low analog synth, projector rattle underneath] [Verse 1 — deep baritone male lead, low and intimate, almost spoken-sung] Stall number nine, incense and brine. Filing silver rings, eyes down, no sign. Green scarf, steel dust, cash in a tin. No more cameras. Nobody gets in. [Second male voice, softer and higher tenor, answers] They say at the harbour… [Baritone male lead] …it was all true. [Verse 2 — deep baritone male lead, metallic percussion enters] They say one year of flash and neon, her face on the buses in every station. They say a red carpet stood waiting for her. She took the ferry at ten past four. [Pre-Chorus — drums drop out, only pulsing bass and cold pad; baritone male lead, almost whispered] "Cut," said the sea. (cut…) [Chorus — full band returns, baritone male lead with tenor harmony, tight vocal doubles] Muse of salt, nobody knows. Ask her once, she smiles and goes. Muse of salt, the island won't tell. [Signature riff returns] [Verse 3 — deep baritone male lead, low and intimate] Tourists slow down. Something feels known. That voice, that brow… "Which film was that?" She wraps the ring in yesterday's news, says "safe travels" and the scene goes black. [Breakdown — drums and bass drop out completely; only voices, a cold pad and distant waves; short silences between fragments] [Call and response — fragmented lines; a gospel-tinged backing choir sings each fragment; the baritone male lead only whispers some fragments back, spoken, not sung; the choir echoes the whispered words] [Gospel-tinged choir] they say [Gospel-tinged choir] she was [Baritone male lead, whispered, spoken, not sung] a muse on the screen [Gospel-tinged choir, echo] a muse [Gospel-tinged choir] who left [Baritone male lead, whispered, spoken, not sung] at ten past four [Gospel-tinged choir, echo] ten past four [Baritone male lead, whispered, spoken, not sung] cut [2 seconds of total silence] [Final Chorus — everything returns all at once, baritone male lead belted, tenor harmony and choir behind, cavernous room reverb] Muse of salt, nobody knows. Her finest film was never shown. Muse of salt, [Both male voices together, in harmony] the island won't tell. [Outro — signature riff alone on low analog synth; the film reel runs out and flaps, the projector slows down and stops; only small waves remain, then hard cut to silence]
