[male
vocals] (
Soft,
melancholic
synth
pads
fade
in) (
Gentle,
echoing
piano
notes)
Yeah.
Some
stories
don't
start
with
a
bang.
They
start
with
a
whisper.
And
end
in
a
silence
that
lasts
a
lifetime.
It
started
with
a
visit,
an
unexpected
guest
My
aunt
came
from
the
village,
put
us
to
the
test "
Just
for
a
while,"
she
said,
settling
in
the
chair
We
didn't
know
the
shadow
that
was
waiting
in
the
air
Nineteen
eighty-seven,
the
year
the
world
turned
gray
A
road
crash
took
my
daddy,
took
the
light
of
day
I
was
only
eight
years
old,
a
child
lost
in
the
night
The
house
that
used
to
ring
with
love,
lost
all
of
its
light
From
owners
to
dependents,
in
the
home
my
father
built
Watching
walls
change
colors,
covered
in
a
stranger's
guilt
We
were
masters
of
our
castle,
then
the
crown
fell
on
the
floor
From
owners
to
dependents,
waiting
by
the
locked-up
door
After
the
funeral,
when
the
dust
began
to
settle
down
She
didn't
pack
her
bags,
she
didn't
leave
this
town
While
we
were
still
in
pieces,
tears
upon
our
face
She
brought
another
man
inside
our
holy,
quiet
place
Right
there
at
mum’
s
table,
vows
were
being
said
While
the
ghost
of
my
father
was
lingering
in
the
shed
A
visit
turned
to
rules,
a
kingdom
turned
to
cage
We
were
writing
down
our
misery
on
every
single
page
From
owners
to
dependents,
in
the
home
my
father
built
Watching
walls
change
colors,
covered
in
a
stranger's
guilt
We
were
masters
of
our
castle,
then
the
crown
fell
on
the
floor
From
owners
to
dependents,
waiting
by
the
locked-up
door
We
asked
permission
just
to
cook
our
daily
bread
We
asked
for
permission
for
the
prayers
that
we
said
In
the
house
he
built
with
timber,
in
the
house
he
built
with
stone
We
became
the
strangers,
we
were
standing
all
alone
Stanley M2,
the
name
they
tried
to
fade
away
But
the
spirit
of
the
owner
is
coming
back
to
stay
From
owners
to
dependents,
in
the
home
my
father
built
Watching
walls
change
colors,
covered
in
a
stranger's
guilt
We
were
masters
of
our
castle,
then
the
crown
fell
on
the
floor
From
owners
to
dependents,
waiting
by
the
locked-up
door
Yeah,
we
remember.
From
owner
to
owner
again.
The
walls
still
whisper
his
name.
Stanley. (
Fading
out
with
soft,
haunting
piano)
It’
s
time
to
take
it
back. (
Silence)