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The Dinosaur’s Bill 2

[Intro: Intimate acoustic Portuguese guitar arpeggios. A deep, melancholic cello joins in. The sound of a cold wind howling, then fading into a rhythmic tap of a wine glass. Am - Dm - E7 - Am] (Verse 1: Low-register, velvety male baritone—intimate and wry. Close-mic delivery.) I don’t believe in the pedestals of age or the myths of the sex, The world is just a balance sheet, complicated and complex. Why do they say that silver hair is a temple of the wise? Perhaps it’s just an echo under ancient, frozen skies. Back in the Ice Age, when the elders knew the way, Where the mammoths moved in winter and the reindeer came to play. They knew the hidden mountain paths, the ambush in the snow, But that was twenty thousand lonely years ago. [Am - B7sus4 - F - E7] (Verse 2: Gravelly male voice, adding a touch of cynical wisdom. Moody accordion textures swell.) Now I look around my generation, the "seasoned" and the old, And I see more fools than wisdom in the stories being told. Old Gauss and his bell curve—well, he didn't count the cost, Of the fading light of memory and the minds that we have lost. Dementia and the stubborn heart, they skew the holy line, So I treat ‘em all the same, Lord, the water and the wine. No piousness for gender, no respect for just the years, Just a cold and level logic for the laughter and the tears. [Am - Am/G - Fmaj7 - E7] (Chorus: Powerful, soulful Fado crescendo—passionate and dark. Sweeping strings.) Oh, I’m a man of the modern mind, a soldier of the fact, But there’s a glitch in my system, a ghost inside the act! Whenever I’m at dinner with a lady at the light, The "Old World" starts a-whispering in the middle of the night. My wallet opens wide, Lord, before I even think, Paying for the dinner and paying for the drink. It’s a prehistoric reflex, a ritual of the cave, A chivalry that’s haunting me from an ancient, dusty grave. [Am - Dm - E7 - Am] (Bridge: Intimate, breathy baritone. Sudden fast digital synth arpeggios and weeping saxophone.) Call me an old dinosaur, a relic of the past, Holding on to knightly things that weren't meant to last. It’s a contradiction, it’s a crack inside the shell, But I’ll wear the armor proudly... and I’ll wear it rather well. (Guitar Solo: Clean, melodic "Fado-style" solo. Weeping slide guitar with a touch of "Ice Age" coldness. A-minor.) (Outro: Voice fading into a dark, self-mocking laugh. Sound of a credit card clicking on a table. Final mournful moseño flute riff.) Equality for everyone... Except for when we dine. The dinosaur is hungry... But the bill is always mine. (Final electronic 404-error beep. Silence.)