Prompt / Lyrics
[Verse 1] Dawn comes gray on the sand Whistle cuts through the dark Bootsteps count off the distance Keys swing low like a threat Iron on wrists Eyes on dirt Names they spat Not our own One of them laughs at the shaking cup Spills the water Keeps the stone [Chorus] Cruel slave guards on the hill Shouting orders just to feel Something like power in an empty heart But they can’t chain the part that stays alive They can’t chain the part that stays alive [Verse 2] Sun climbs high Backs turn red Salt on skin Salt in wounds One lifts his stick like a question mark Lets it fall just to hear the sound They trade jokes over our pain Share a smoke Share a grin But when they look too long into our eyes They look away Like they might fall in [Chorus] Cruel slave guards on the hill Shouting orders just to feel Something like power in an empty heart But they can’t chain the part that stays alive They can’t chain the part that stays alive [Bridge] I count the scars I count the days (oh yeah) I count the hands that still reach out in the haze They hold the guns They hold the keys We hold the stories they can’t seize [Chorus] Cruel slave guards on the hill Shouting orders just to feel Something like power in an empty heart But they can’t chain the part that stays alive No They can’t chain the part that stays alive
Tags
Gritty minor-key folk with male vocals, close-mic’d and intimate. Fingerpicked acoustic guitar and a low, droning fiddle build tension; kick on the 2 and 4 like a marching boot. Chorus swells with gang vocals and stomp-claps, bridge strips back to bare voice and guitar before a final, defiant chorus with raspier harmonies.
Duration
2:32
Instrumental
No
Created
2/5/2026