[Intro]
[Instrumental Intro: Plucked lyre circles the three-note motif while a frame drum marks a slow ritual waltz.]

[Verse 1]
From thawing mist her hoof came down,
Where neither meadow lay nor town.
Her hide was pale as buried stone,
Her breath the first kind warmth we’d known.
Four rivers gathered at her side,
White as foam without a tide.
EE-meer drank and ceased to roar;
Milk struck earth where none was before.

[Chorus]
Salt-Mother, bend to the bitter wall,
Lick through the winter, grain by grain.
Feed the giant, uncover us all;
Life gives life, then divides again.
Salt-Mother, patient, pale and mild—
One tongue woke a rival child.

[Verse 2]
She found the brine beneath the frost,
And licked as though no hour were lost.
The first day freed a crown of hair,
The second shaped a face from glare.
Upon the third, the shoulders broke
Through salted glass and freezing smoke.
BOO-ree stood where her tongue had passed,
Fair and strong, from the ice at last.

[Chorus]
Salt-Mother, bend to the bitter wall,
Lick through the winter, grain by grain.
Feed the giant, uncover us all;
Life gives life, then divides again.
Salt-Mother, patient, pale and mild—
One tongue woke a rival child.

[Verse 3]
EE-meer watched with narrowed eyes,
A second lineage start to rise.
One fed on milk, one came from stone;
The void was no longer his alone.
She neither trembled nor withdrew,
For grassless hunger was all she knew.
Her rough tongue passed across the seam,
Dividing bloodline, fate and dream.

[Bridge - Female Contralto Solo]

I meant no crown, I forged no spear,
I only tasted salt held near.
I gave my rivers where thirst had grown;
I freed a face inside the stone.
Yet gentle acts can sharpen strife—
No hand controls the road of life.

[Instrumental]
[Instrumental Direction: Lyre and tagelharpa intertwine as distorted guitars enter in slow descending chords.]

[Final Chorus]
Salt-Mother, bend to the bitter wall,
Lick through the winter, grain by grain.
You fed the giant, awakened us all;
Now two proud bloodlines rise to reign.
Salt-Mother, under the rime you smiled—
One tongue woke the gods’ first child.

[Coda]
Milk on the ground and salt in the air:
The roots of a murder were already there.

[Outro]
Her hoofprints filled with melted snow.
Two lines stood watching, row by row.
She lowered her head, untouched by blame,
While kin learned difference, blood and name.