[Verse 1] [low mature contralto • gritty • restrained] Smoke on the hill. Rags at the door. Dust on her tongue like days before. No crest. No crown. No hand to lead. Just borrowed bread. Just borrowed sleep. The road unwinds. The seasons bend. She walks until the road has no end. [Pre-Chorus] [guitar tension • dry vocal] One bell— one breath— one little spark. Keep walking before they see the mark. [Chorus] [powerful gritty contralto • driving rock] [wailing choir answers] Run, Queen, run. Hide your head. Beg for bread and leave the dead. Run, Queen, run. Don't look back. Every town becomes a trap. [Verse 2] [heavier riff • clipped phrasing] A hand held out. A gate. A stare. She asks for bread. They give her air. [Unstable] [sharp rasp • sudden] Close the gate. Bar the door. One more— ONE MORE— [hard stop] Nothing. Only wheat. Only dust. Only a face she cannot trust. [Chorus] [full band • aggressive groove] [wailing choir answers] Run, Queen, run. Hide your head. Beg for bread and leave the dead. Run, Queen, run. Don't look back. Every town becomes a trap. [Breakdown] [half-time • whispered double] Rags. Dust. Bare feet. Road. [whisper] Queen. [main voice] No. [whisper] Queen. [main voice] No. [unhinged laugh] Spare me a coin. [Heavy riff] [Final Chorus] [cracked mature contralto • increasingly unstable] [wailing choir swells] Run, Queen, run. Break the seal. Tell yourself the wound was real. Run, Queen, run. Keep it low. Let no one ever know. No crown. No creed. No sacred ground. Just one old queen still walking round and round. [Outro] [band drops • exhausted natural voice] Rags on her back. Empty hand. No one knows who she had been. She walks on. She walks on. [whisper] And begs again.
