Create Indie Folk male vocal lyrics centered on a retired lighthouse keeper’s quiet feud with a colony of puffins that keep rearranging his hand-painted wallpaper scraps, which he uses to mark decades of ships that carried lost loved ones past his shore. BPM 75-95, shifting 10 BPM higher during sections about the playful puffin raids, core instrumentation: bowed psaltery, field recordings of coastal seabirds, wine glass harmonics, soft typewriter percussion for wallpaper pattern recounting, open D major key with occasional minor inflections for wistful asides. Emotion leans into warm absurdity, soft lingering melancholy, and small, unspoken cosmic wonder, with 2 subtle branching narrative endings: either the keeper joins the puffins in rearranging the wallpaper, or he starts baking sourdough shaped like lighthouses to leave as peace offerings. Lyrics filter coastal North Sea folk traditions through a soft, dreamlike lens, with vocals drifting between soft falsetto and low, rumbling spoken riddles about the stories stitched into each wallpaper print.
歌詞
[Intro] [Verse] Old stone walls are cold and grey I paint the patterns every day Scraps of floral, scraps of blue Marking ships that sailed on through Nineteen-forty, HMS Stitched into this paper mess [Pre-Chorus] I see the ghosts in every print In the morning's golden squint Every name is tucked away Underneath a leaf of clay [Chorus] But the puffins come at night In the orange harbor light Tearing down my paper stars Hiding all my family scars They rearrange the floral vine Changing every lonely line Oh, they never let it be This map of salt and memory [Hook] Click-clack, typewriter keys Drifting on the coastal breeze Click-clack, paper on the floor Dancing by the open door [Verse] (BPM Shifting Higher) Beaks like painted wooden toys Making such a clattered noise They take a strip of velvet green Where a trawler should have been Now the parlor's all a-mess In a suit of patchwork dress [Pre-Chorus] I yell at wings of charcoal soot They don't move a single foot They just tilt a heavy head To see the stories that I've read [Chorus] For the puffins come at night In the orange harbor light Tearing down my paper stars Hiding all my family scars They rearrange the floral vine Changing every lonely line Oh, they never let it be This map of salt and memory [Bridge] (Low Rumbling Spoken Riddle) Which ship carried the aunt with the silver hair? The one in the toile, or the one in the snare? The birds know the map better than the man They've rewritten the world since the tides began Is the wallpaper a wall, or is it a wing? Listen to the wine glass start to sing [Breakdown] (Wine glass harmonics and bowed psaltery solo) [Chorus] So the puffins come at night In the orange harbor light Tearing down my paper stars Hiding all my family scars They rearrange the floral vine Changing every lonely line Oh, they never let it be This map of salt and memory [Post-Chorus] I’m kneading dough in shapes of stone To leave upon the porch alone Crusty towers, salty yeast A peace offering for the beast Or maybe I will join the raid And lose the world that I have made [Outro]
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