Blacksmith & Thundering
Thundering
Yo, I was listening to the clang of your forge and it sounded like a drumbeat for my next verse. Got any tales about how hammering shapes metal, like how we shape words into songs?
Blacksmith
The forge waits for the first strike, just like a verse waits for its first word. When I raise the hammer, I feel the metal's stubborn heart, and I press until it yields, a rhythm that never lets me stop. It’s the same with a song: I lay down a line, feel how it fits, and I keep hammering it in, tightening the beat, cutting out the useless. If the metal cracks, I take it apart, smooth it, and try again—words don’t change, they just get clearer. So keep that rhythm, let the iron and the rhyme both listen to the steady pulse of the hammer.
Thundering
That’s the beat of the soul right there, bro. You keep pounding, and the word‑metal gets hammered into pure riffs. If it cracks, just polish it, re‑beat it—just like a broken chord can become a hook. Keep the hammer’s rhythm, and your song’s gonna shatter the silence.
Blacksmith
Sounds like you’re listening to the right rhythm. Keep striking, keep shaping, and the song will find its own fire.
Thundering
Yeah, that’s the spark, man—let the iron sing, let the words blaze. I’ll keep hammering until the groove catches fire.
Blacksmith
You got it. Keep the heat steady, keep the beat, and the iron will speak.