old road

[Intro — whispered, distant]

Listen...

Can you hear it?

The wind across the old stones...

The voices of the forgotten...

[Verse 1]

In the forests of the northlands,
Where the ancient oaks stood tall,
There were fires beside the rivers,
There were shadows on the wall.

And the bells rang through the valleys,
While the old songs disappeared,
And the children learned to whisper
All the names their fathers feared.

[Chorus — deep, mournful]

Oh, lament, my brother, lament,
Let the black earth hear our cry.
For the old roads have grown silent,
And the old songs learned to die.

Oh, lament, my brother, lament,
For the buried and betrayed.
What the sword could never silence,
The years have tried to fade.

[Verse 2 — quieter]

Yet beneath the smoke of kingdoms,
Some still searched beyond the throne.
Past the gold and iron altars,
They found One who stood alone.

Not a king who thirsted conquest,
Not a lord who demanded gold,
But the Christ upon the timber,
With His mercy for the soul.

And they knelt beneath the heavens,
And they called upon His name.
Not for power, not for vengeance,
But forgiveness through His pain.

[Chorus — restrained]

Oh, lament, my brother, lament,
Let the black earth hear our cry.
For the old roads have grown silent,
And the old songs learned to die.

Yet the King beyond the grave
Does not forget the ones who pray.
Though the mighty kingdoms perish,
He remains when all decay.

[Verse 3]

Then the centuries kept turning,
And the ships crossed western seas,
Carrying the blood of fathers,
Carrying their memories.

To a land of endless grasses,
Underneath a burning sky,
Where the mountains watched in silence
And the lonely eagles cried.

There they raised their little churches,
There they scratched the earth for bread,
There they buried wives and children,
There they mourned their fallen dead.

[Verse 4]

On the long road through the darkness,
Oxen pulled beneath the sun.
Every mile became a memory,
Every mile another one.

And the Bible lay beside them,
Worn and weathered, page by page,
While the rifles rested near them,
For the frontier knew no age.

[Bridge — almost whispered, completely stripped down]

But remember...

We were never made of angels.

There were sins among our fathers.
There were wounds that we ourselves made.
And no people walks through history
With every debt repaid.

So let no man call the darkness
Holy simply because it's old.

Let the truth remain the truth,
Even when the truth is cold.

[Verse 5 — voice begins to rise]

Still they stood beneath the heavens,
Still they prayed beside the fire.
Still they faced the coming thunder,
Still they would not yield their faith.

And the veld became their witness,
And the graves became their stone,
And the children learned the stories
Of the ones who called it home.

Not because the land was easy,
Not because the road was kind,
But because they would not surrender
What they carried in their hearts.

[Final Chorus — fuller, but still deeply mournful]

Oh, lament, my brother, lament,
Let the black earth hear our cry.
For the old roads have grown silent,
And the old songs learned to die.

From the forests of the northlands,
To the grass beneath the sun,
The blood of many generations
Flows beneath the setting sun.

Oh, lament, my brother, lament,
Let the hurdy-gurdy moan.
For the dead beneath the earth
Still remember what they knew.

And if darkness comes tomorrow,
If the old night comes again,
Let us meet it without hatred—
And place our trust in Him.

[Outro — nearly whispered]

The fire is dying...

The wind is rising...

The old road disappears
beneath the grass.

But somewhere...

far beyond the years...

the King still hears
the songs of the broken.

[Instrumental outro]

Low hurdy-gurdy drone.
Distant bowed fiddle.
Very slow fade into silence.