High-intensity cinematic hip-hop at 96–100 BPM. Urgent, driving momentum with relentless focus. Hard, punchy kick and sharp snare, tight hi-hats with subtle rolls building tension. Dark, repetitive piano motif with low string pulses underneath. Gradual instrumental escalation each verse.
Feminine lead vocal: articulate, commanding, emotionally controlled but increasingly intense. Close-mic’d verses with tight rhythmic phrasing and forward propulsion.
Hook explodes into wide stereo field: layered female harmonies, stronger drums, rising strings. Include a melodic, haunting sung refrain using invented syllables only (no real words), rhythmic and urgent, e.g.:
“Ah-reeya no-vah sai…
Liora sai-eh va…”
Brief drum drop before final hook, then full return. End on sustained piano with vocal echo tail.
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Lyrics
Dear Hazel — perhaps you’ll never reed
These lines if the jungle completes its deed.
We sailed with scholarship lighting the bow,
But gold was the current that pulled us now.
A letter from Spain, old blood in the page,
Mutiny, treasure, a century’s rage.
They slaughtered command, then drifted blind,
No captain left, no star to find.
Wrecked and starving, ten men remain,
One chest of gold and a curse of pain.
Three years hope rotted under the sun,
Till one chose sea over madness won.
He lied, kept treasure beneath his breath,
Mapped Cape Verde in ink and death.
Papa bought dream for a reckless sum,
Ten thousand borrowed — you know what comes.
Canler smiles thin; I feel the chain.
We found the chest. We broke the plain.
Four men bent under iron and oak,
Two centuries silent suddenly woke.
Three days later our crew drew blades,
Officers fell in a red parade.
I cannot reed those screams aloud —
They hang like smoke in a shattered cloud.
King spared us breath yet sailed with doom;
Knife in the sand became his tomb.
History circles, precise and cold.
Now we stand stranded, one gun, three to hold.
Fruit and hunger in equal share.
And Clayton — steady beneath despair.
Heir to a title I swore I’d disdain,
Yet honor in him outshines the name.
If birth were erased, I’d have no defense —
My heart moves first, not recompense.
Lions at dusk with cathedral roar,
Papa pursued through vine and thorn.
Clayton attacked yet standing still.
Esmeralda praying with iron will.
And then — a presence the trees conceal,
Strength like myth but fiercely real.
No English spoken, no tracks to see,
Yet danger bends when he wills it be.
A sign on the cabin, firm and plain:
Tarzan watches. Refrain. Refrain.
A sailor aimed at Clayton’s back —
A spear cut air in a single arc.
Gunfire wasted. Shoulder torn.
Jungle silent. Fear reborn.
If you ever reed this, know —
Courage grows where we must go.
And should I fade where green things climb,
Remember my name in steadier time.
