Smoke on the Horizon

[Verse 1]
Boots on the planks
Salt in the cuts of our hands
Black flags snapping
Ash drifting over the sand
Deck rails shaking
Gun crews biting on leather and prayer
Cannon mouths grinning
Iron and powder in the air
[Chorus]
Smoke on the horizon, smoke in our lungs (hey!)
Thunder in the barrels, death in our tongues
Splintering wood, hear the hullbones cry
We roar, we fire, we bleed, we die
Smoke on the horizon, red in our eyes
Brothers in the broadside, bound to the skies
[Verse 2]
Fuse lines hissing
Heartbeats counting the flame
Captain’s voice breaking
Calling each target by name
Shutters blown open
Shards in the arms of the young
Mast torn sideways
Teeth full of sawdust and blood on the tongue
[Chorus]
Smoke on the horizon, smoke in our lungs (oh!)
Thunder in the barrels, death in our tongues
Splintering wood, hear the hullbones cry
We roar, we fire, we bleed, we die
Smoke on the horizon, red in our eyes
Brothers in the broadside, bound to the skies
[Bridge]
Raise up the fallen, drag them to light (hey!)
Load for the living, curse at the night
If this is the ending, let it be loud
Let the last cannon carve out our shroud
[Chorus]
Smoke on the horizon, smoke in our lungs
Thunder in the barrels, death in our tongues (death on our tongues)
Splintering wood, hear the hullbones cry
We roar, we fire, we bleed, we die
Smoke on the horizon, red in our eyes (hey!)
Brothers in the broadside, bound to the skies

Massive war shanty energy with shouted male group vocals and a gravelly lead; low strings churn under booming war drums and metallic hits. Verses stay close and tense like a marching column; chorus explodes wide with octave-doubled choirs and stabbing brass. Occasional battlefield ambience swells between lines, cymbal rolls and taiko-style accents underline key words, ending in a brutal, clipped stop on the last shout., shanty, orchestral