[Intro]
[Twelve-string guitar lifts the last-call motif in harmony.]

[Male Vocal]
[Verse 1]
Mara met me on the stairs,
Contract torn in four pieces there.
I said, "I made this room prove me right."
She said, "You nearly sold the night."
The gold-star scraps lay by the door;
No rooftop set, no rights anymore.

[Chorus]
[Male & Female Duet]
Keep the poster, keep it torn,
Keep the tape where years have worn.
Don't make saints of who we were;
Keep the truth beneath the blur.
Pass it on, don't make it gold.
Let new hands take hold.

[Verse 2]
The kid was stacking cups backstage,
Black marker tucked beside the page.
"You play?" He shook his head: "Not yet.
I write down riffs I can't forget."
I brought our poster from Joe's drawer,
The club date bleeding through the floor.

[Chorus]
[Male & Female Duet]
Keep the poster, keep it torn,
Keep the tape where years have worn.
Don't make saints of who we were;
Keep the truth beneath the blur.
Pass it on, don't make it gold.
Let new hands take hold.

[Instrumental Break]
[Twelve-string and harmonized electric guitar trade the rising motif.]

[Bridge]
[Female Vocal — Mara]
Keep the failures, keep the spark.
Don't clean up every mark.

[Male Vocal]
The room is not a shrine to us.
It's a match passed through the dust.

[Final Chorus]
[Male & Female Duet]
Keep the poster, keep it torn,
Keep the tape where years have worn.
Write your name beside our blur;
Make your own mistakes occur.
Pass it on when we're long gone.
Hang it where new chords begin.

[Outro]
[Male Vocal]
I put the red pick in his hand.

[Male Spoken — Kid]
Not yet.

[Male Vocal]
Good. Start when you understand.