The Sleeping Lion
[Intro]
[Pre-Chorus]
And I heard it
Beneath the static
A frequency older than fear
Like a lion sleeping under the surface.
Waiting for the field to hear.
Because you can fake the crown
But you cannot fake the weight
You can imitate the signal.
But distortion always breaks.
[Verse]
I walked through the theatre of mirrors
Faces lit by electric suns
Everyone shouting they had the answer
But nobody asking what they’d become.
The city breathed in fractured rhythms
Glass towers humming empty names
Crowds moved like waves without an ocean
Running hard but going nowhere
[Chorus]
And I heard it
Beneath the static
A frequency older than fear
Like a lion sleeping under the surface.
Waiting for the field to hear.
Because you can fake the crown
But you cannot fake the weight
You can imitate the signal.
But distortion always breaks.
[Interlude]
[Verse]
The butterfly was never built in public
The seed was never taught to grow
And the deepest things in creation.
Move quietly below.
There’s nowhere to hide from consequence
Nowhere to run from what you are
Every pattern leaves an imprint
Every fracture shows the scar.
[Chorus]
And I heard it
Beneath the static
A frequency older than fear
Like a lion sleeping under the surface.
Waiting for the field to hear.
Because you can fake the crown
But you cannot fake the weight
You can imitate the signal.
But distortion always breaks.
[Interlude]
[Verse]
The field remembers everything
Every word and every tone
Truth moves through the architecture
Long after the mask is gone.
I went down the rabbit hole slowly
Not searching for spectacle or fame
Just trying to find the hidden geometry
Beneath the language and the names.
[Chorus]
And I heard it
Beneath the static
A frequency older than fear
Like a lion sleeping under the surface.
Waiting for the field to hear.
Because you can fake the crown
But you cannot fake the weight
You can imitate the signal.
But distortion always breaks.
[Verse]
So let the theatre keep collapsing
Let the masks fall where they stand
The future belongs to coherence
And the ones who understand
The signal was never absent
Only buried beneath the noise
And somewhere underneath the surface
The sleeping lion lifts its voice.
And ROARS
Copyright Taun. A. Richards 2026