Signal Fire

Lyrics

[Intro]
Cold on my tongue; the hill doesn’t answer.
I was the one with no fires waiting.
Now I stand where the sky splits open,
strike a spark and breathe your name.

[Verse 1]
Boots full of ash, a map made of scars,
I climbed out of iron weather, alone.
Stacked wet pine, bone-dry doubt,
flint to steel while the wind kept saying no.
No watchfires met me then, only wolves for drums,
my shadow the longest thing I owned.
But I learned the grammar of embers—patience, breath—
and vowed this ridge would answer the dark back.

[Pre-Chorus]
If the night has taken every name you carried,
if the road is teeth and the air is knives,
lift your eyes to the seam of the mountains—
follow the smoke that writes against the black.
The first glow is mine, and it’s burning for you.

[Chorus]
On a spine of stone, I feed this stubborn fire,
peak to peak, old hills pass the answer.
Black sky takes my smoke like ink—read it, follow.
My hand in the dark, where I once had none.
You are not the last one standing.
I made it out, so I’m lighting the way for you.
I swear on every scar and on this cold,
I’ll burn a signal fire so you find your way home.

[Drop]
(Instrumental — Solo violin leads a raw D-minor war–melody over growling bass; war drums answer like distant beacons.)

[Verse 2]
If your knees are flint, strike them on the trail;
let the dark say what it wants—it won’t get the last word.
I’ve hung a lantern in the wind’s ribcage,
its smoke will find your lungs before the light finds your eyes.
When the snow erases every footprint,
look up—my fire carves a road in the sky.
Tie your heartbeat to its steady pulse,
I’ll keep feeding it with every breath I owe.

[Pre-Chorus 2]
Hear the storm’s taiko? I answer with thunder,
each strike a promise: not one more alone.
If you stumble, listen—stone speaking to stone;
my flame says your name between the gusts:
you are not the last one standing.

[Chorus 2]
On the ridge I stand, I feed the flame higher,
watchfires wake and pass the call peak to peak.
Black night reads the letter of my smoke and carries it far.
My hand in the dark, waiting where you reach.
You are not the last one standing.
I made it out, so I’m lighting the way for you.
Through the long cold hours, through the wind’s low moan,
I’ll burn a signal fire so you find your way home.
I’ll burn a signal fire so you find your way home.

[Drop 2]
(Instrumental — Fiddle soars above halftime weight; low brass and guitars surge, chants rumble under the avalanche of drums.)

[Bridge]
Truth is, I almost let the night keep me—
head on a broken rung of sky, breath counting thin.
No hands reached then; only a match and shaking lungs,
learning hope is a slow, stubborn animal.
I held still until its small heart woke,
till the hush turned ember, then flame, then oath:
if I make it out, I turn back for you—
no one who comes after will walk without a light.

[Chant Break]
(Low male war-chants and stomps)
Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.
Not alone. Not alone.
You are not the last one standing.
Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.

[Final Chorus]
From ridge to ridge, the world replies with fire,
what began as breath becomes a choir of smoke.
Take my hand in the dark; feel the heat on your face—
I made it out, so I’m lighting the way for you.
You are not the last one standing.
On this spine of stone, I feed the flame higher,
over black ice roads and the miles you’ve known,
I’ll burn a signal fire so you find your way home.
I’ll burn a signal fire so you find your way home.
I’ll burn a signal fire so you find your way home.

[Outro]
When dawn thins the night, one coal still breathing—
if you arrive at daybreak, you’ll know whose flame this is.
One light, steady. I wait on the ridge.