Turning Tides

{low-frequency drone building up} {sparse solemn piano

chords} {distant atmospheric swells}

Silent streets under a heavy sky

We watch the shifting colors start to die

The clock is ticking,

the rivers run dry Is this the end of all we knew?

(ahhh) Oh, the fate of the world is hanging by a thread

In the quiet space between what's done and said Will we rise

to build it new?

Or let the dust cover the blue?

{soaring string crescendo}

We draw our borders and we paint our walls

Ignoring how the ancient forest falls

But nature speaks in storms and silent calls There is no time

to turn away (no more time) We are the writers of the

final page

Standing on a fragile,

turning stage

{heavy floor tom

hits}

{orchestral swell}

Will we let the dust cover the blue?

(ohhhh) {final decaying piano chord} {wind texture

fading out}