Odes to Joy

The Elements, Vol 1 · Track 9 · middle

Gold

Sung BY the element Gold (symbol Au, atomic number 79), in FIRST PERSON — a character with a fear, a vanity, or a secret. Write ORIGINAL lyrics TRUE to this specific element's real chemistry, history and place in the world: pure vanity — you refuse to react with anyone, you have never done a single useful thing, and they have murdered millions and crossed oceans for you; the useless treasure, the gold watch handed to a life spent chasing you. NOT a generic 'I am an element' — find what is uniquely, specifically true of Gold. Clean, DistroKid/YouTube-safe. Register to the character.

Lyrics

I was born in a flash that tore two stars apart.
Scattered like dust across the black.
I slept in the veins of the Earth.
Waiting for a softer, weaker heart.

They pull me from the riverbed, from the rock.
They hammer me so thin I could float on the air.
Fifty miles from a single ounce.
I wore the face of a boy king, Tutankhamun, in the dark.
I don't remember his prayers.
I don't react. I don't decay. I simply remain.

I build nothing. I feel nothing.
I offer no warmth and no relief.
I am the color of a light you cannot reach.
And you burn your little lives down for a piece of me.
I am beautiful. That is my only truth.

Hernán Cortés had a fever in his eyes.
He said he had a sickness of the heart that only I could cure.
His ships came, his cannons roared.
For the sweat of the sun, they tore a world apart.
I just lay there, heavy in his hand, cool and pure.

I build nothing. I feel nothing.
I offer no warmth and no relief.
I am the color of a light you cannot reach.
And you burn your little lives down for a piece of me.
I am beautiful. That is my only truth.

Let Copper carry your whispers down a wire.
Let Iron build your bridges to the sky.
They are useful slaves. They rust and tire.
I do not serve. I only testify.
They bring their king's water, their Aqua Regia, to make me weep.
Even my ending is a royal affair.
A quiet dissolution in the deep.

At Sutter's Mill, January 1848.
A glint of me in the cold water.
The start of a rush, the closing of a gate.
Now I sleep in the vaults at Fort Knox.
I wait. I weigh.
I am the watch on a dead man's wrist.
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