🔊 INTRO — (soft tam-tam, warm piano, distant call-and-response)
« Ici la voix qui cherche… »
A low drum opens, a single question rides the night:
And where is the blood? — Où est le sang ?
🎵 VERSE 1
A folded photograph in a pocket, a nametag gone from a bed,
A mother lights a candle for a son the city won't confess.
Maps with edges burned, a list of promises with corners torn,
We trace footsteps on dusty roads where names fall like rain.
Concrete smells like morning; an empty chair keeps its shape,
Someone said he vanished between check-in and a broken gate.
🎵 PRE-CHORUS — (rising tam-tam, voices layer)
Hands reach into the dark, fingers comb through old menus,
We lift the drum — the rhythm remembers what the paper hides.
Listen: a whisper builds into a river that won't sleep,
We pull the thread and feel the stitch of every stolen beat.
🎵 CHORUS — (full choir, strong tam-tam, brass warmth)
Where's the blood that keeps our story whole?
Où est le sang qui nous nomme vrai? — tell me, tell me so.
Not just a wound, not just a hole — it's the name on every stone,
The voice we owe the ones who walked before us home.
🎵 VERSE 2 — (tempo lifts, layered percussion)
Old letters in the attic, ink faded like an evening star,
A father's handwriting: "Forgive the years, remember who we are."
An aunt hums a lullaby in a tongue the city barely knows,
Drumbeats fold into the market where the seed of memory grows.
A teacher draws a map of rivers, schools, and vanished towns,
She points to dots erased by cold files and quieter crowns.
🎵 PRE-CHORUS — (melody climbs, vocal harmony)
We put maps on tables, we speak the names out loud,
From whispered rooms to open squares, the silence breaks like clouds.
A little child repeats the syllable that once was lost,
Each heartbeat a small tribunal — we count, we pay the cost.
🎵 CHORUS — (call-and-response; lead voice / choir)
Lead: Where's the blood that keeps our story whole?
Choir: Où est le sang qui nous nomme vrai?
Lead: Show me the thread that ties the old to our souls.
Choir: Show me the names that won't be thrown away.
🎵 BRIDGE — (turning point; strings swell then strip back; lyrics answer)
It's in the photo taped to the mirror, in the child's first call,
It's in the songs we learn by heart and the banners on our walls.
It is not only what was taken — it is what we still become:
We carry that blood in our mouths when we speak the missing ones by name.
So dig with songs, plant truth like seeds, and let the testimonies run —
We make the blood return in telling, until the reckoning is done.
🎵 CHORUS (FINAL) — (big, celebratory, timpani + tam-tam)
Where's the blood that keeps our story whole?
Où est le sang qui nous nomme vrai? — here, here it grows!
In every letter, drum, and home — in the promises we hold,
We are the current, we are the proof: the living run the road.
🔊 OUTRO — (tam-tam softens, lone vocal echo)
And where is the blood? — It's in our mouths, our maps, our hands.
Où est le sang? — Il est en no
