[Verse 1 — she’s in the middle of the purge. The letter is in her hand.] I was burning what was left of it The last of what I called a life The pages and the pictures and the promises The doctrines and the doctrine’s knife And in the bottom of the ruin In the ash of what I thought I knew There was a letter I had never seen before Addressed to someone — not to me — but to
[Pre-Chorus — voice quiet, stunned] I should have kept burning I should have let it go I should have never opened it (barely) But I had to know
[Chorus — controlled, reading, each line landing harder] There were two of them — that’s what it said There were two born from the same beginning One to carry dark, one to carry light One to end the war, one to keep it living They were separated — that’s what it said To protect the greater — that’s what they called it Someone made a choice to split the thing in half And then — built everything around it
[Verse 2 — the connections forming. The rage building slow.] I have given every year I had in service To the people who wrote this page I have bled and held the line for the institution Run by the same hands that built this cage They knew — they always knew — there was another They knew and they called it necessary They took a child and drew a line between her and the other And then they handed me a cross to carry
[Pre-Chorus 2 — quieter, more dangerous] And told me this was chosen And told me this was grace And told me I was everything they needed And never showed me any other face
[Chorus 2 — rage fully present now] There were two of them — and they kept us blind There were two walking toward each other all this time One was burning churches — one was burning too And the people who knew everything — said nothing — let it continue They made a choice — that’s what it said For the greater good — that’s what they called it Someone held the warmth I’d been searching for my whole life (voice breaks, just once) In their hands And withheld it
[Bridge — near silence. Just her voice and one piano note. The lullaby motif rises — the last time.] (spoken, hollow) There was a warmth I kept dreaming about. I told myself it was grief. I told myself it was the aftermath. (the lullaby motif — soft, a few notes — the closest it’s ever been) She was real. She has always been real. And they knew. (long pause) (the drone rises — massive now — and buries the warmth completely) (the lullaby motif is gone. It does not return.) They knew — and they said nothing.[
Final Chorus — drone dominant. Something new and cold underneath. The rage has gone quiet — worse.] There were two of them — and I was one There were two and they decided we were better undone I have been alone inside a lie they built for me I have been a faithful soldier in a war they designed to keep me From the only thing that ever — in any life — would have been enough (final line, low, almost a whisper) And they called that faith (silence) (the blade-note holds)
[Outro — drone and the blade-note. No warmth. No choir. Nothing left but the dark and the cold.] (held) (fades)