There was a line in my first Uncle Sam song that I thought would be perfect for its own song: “They may try to bury truth, but we’ll keep diggin’ it up.” Well, here it is! (Scroll down for alternate genre versions of this song.)

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Lyrics

They sold a stolen-election story like a gospel on repeat
Fake electors in the shadows, polished shoes on sacred streets
Lost in every court they entered, still they lit the match for proof
Then sent a mob to break the chamber, wrapped in flags and bulletproof
And with the glass shattered on the floor, they changed the camera angle too
Called it tourism, called it patriot love, called the lie a different truth

Every time the record speaks, they drown it in another sound
Every time the facts break through, they drag them underground

They keep trying to bury the truth
(But we’ll keep digging it up)
They keep throwing dirt on the proof
(But we’ll keep digging it up)
With book bans, redactions, and backroom spin
With flags held high over original sin
They keep trying to bury the truth
(But we’ll keep digging it up)

Sharpie lines on weather maps, the storm was bent to fit a boast
CDC warnings trimmed and softened while COVID killed the most
Press rooms punished, science muted, pages deleted from the web
Words erased from public record so the truth begins to ebb
Teachers boxed and libraries raided, history cut to fit the script
If you can’t outfight the evidence, you get the whole thing stripped

Call the press the enemy, call the judge a crooked hack
Call the witness traitor first, so no one hears them answer back

They keep trying to bury the truth
(But we’ll keep digging it up)
They keep throwing dirt on the proof
(But we’ll keep digging it up)
With book bans, redactions, and backroom spin
With flags held high over original sin
They keep trying to bury the truth
(But we’ll keep digging it up)

They called Renée Good and Alex Pretti “terrorists” before the facts came through
Called the press “the enemy” when cameras caught a cleaner view
Election workers, whistleblowers, judges all crooked too
Stephen Colbert, Jimmy Kimmel, pushed aside for comedic truth
That’s the play: attack the witness, make the public doubt the proof
Smear the face that names the lie, and hope the lie outlives the truth

Epstein files, sealed-room whispers, names and favors, smoke and fear
Everybody wants the headline, no one wants the ledger clear
“What about this? What about that?” till the trail is choked with dust
That’s the game, confuse the jury, break the mirror, kill the trust
Fox paid out, but still they sell it, every hearing cuts a clip
Truth gets buried by a thousand hands that never let the shovel slip

Bury the votes
Bury the tapes
Bury the science
Bury the names
Bury the books
Bury the blame
Bury the facts
And call it a frame

They keep trying to bury the truth
(But we’ll keep digging it up)
They keep throwing dirt on the proof
(But we’ll keep digging it up)
From the Capitol’s broken windows
To the economy they’re blowing up
They keep trying to bury the truth
(But we’ll keep digging it up)

You can flood the zone with lies
You can redact the files up
But every grave they dig for truth
Becomes the ground where we rise up

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Alt R&B

Psychedelic Soul

Art Pop Opera

Baroque Pop

Dark Pop

Darkwave

80s Art Rock

Trip-Hop

Industrial Rock

Dark Americana

Blues Rock

Southern Gothic

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I’ve listened to the Paul McCartney and Wings album Band on the Run countless times over the years. One of my favorite songs from that album is “Picasso’s Last Words (Drink To Me)”.

I didn’t realize until recently that the line in the song (Drink to me, drink to my health. You know I can’t drink anymore.) was literally Picasso’s last words. The story McCartney tells is that Dustin Hoffman asked him if he could write a song about anything and then pulled out a Time magazine with Picasso’s death featured on the cover as a challenge. McCartney met the moment, obviously.

That line has been running around in my head as a potential song from the point of view of Lady Liberty. (Read the Wikipedia entry about the Statue of Liberty, by the way; fascinating.)

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Lyrics

I stood here for the poor and hunted
For those who crossed the sea in fear
But you brought in a ban on Muslims
And told the world they’re not welcome here

You took young children from their parents
And locked them up behind my back
You turned the promise into cruelty
And called that strength while rights went black

Drink to me, drink to my health
You know I can’t drink anymore
The cup is dry, the night is heavy
My torch is dim along the shore
Drink to me, drink to my health
You know I can’t drink anymore
I tried to drown what I was seeing
I cannot bear it anymore

You came for protest, speech, and due process
For foreign students, schools, and law
You ruled by fear and mass detention
And dared the courts to stop it all

You sent the agents through the cities
You made the neighbors shut their doors
You filled the streets with raids and murders
And called it Operation Metro Surge

Drink to me, drink to my health
You know I can’t drink anymore
The cup is dry, the night is heavy
My torch is dim along the shore
Drink to me, drink to my health
You know I can’t drink anymore
I tried to drown what I was seeing
I cannot bear it anymore

But now the numbers start to turn back
In red-seat races, town by town
The voters push against the strongmen
And beat his margins down and down
The spell is breaking here and elsewhere
The ones who fed on fear now fall
The tide is turning toward democracy
And late at last, Orbán falls

Drink to me, drink to my health
Raise up your glass and raise your voice
The torch is bright above the harbor
The people still can make the choice
Drink to me, drink to my health
Not as a plea but as a vow
If liberty has nearly drowned here
Then pull me from the water now

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Irish Pub Singalong

Rock Anthem

Celtic Art-Pop

Desert Blues

Contemporary Folk Ballad

Cinematic Anthem

Dark Cabaret Torch

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I’ve been meaning to create a song from the point of view of Uncle Sam going shopping for awhile. The fact that Trump started an insane war with Iran that is driving gas prices through the roof means the time is now. This is my fifth song from the point of view of Uncle Sam. A few more and I’ll have an album’s worth! (As usual, scroll down for alternate genres).

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Lyrics

Kitchen light hummin’, bills all spread,
He said “day one,” but the costs cause me dread.
Rent climbed higher for the same thin walls,
Same cracked ceiling, same leak in the hall.

Power bill thicker than a Sunday Bible,
Trump’s war makes the whole grid’s liable.
Heat costs more, lights cost more,
Every month another shadow at the working family’s door.

The the health plan notice slid in like a knife,
Premium jumped on the price of a life.
They call it “adjustment,” I call it a raid,
Cut help for the people, keep the insurers paid.

They say the market’s hummin’, singin’ all is fine,
But I can read a bill and I can read a sign.

I want you (to afford your life),
Keep the lights on, keep the kids fed right.
Trump said day one would make it all all right,
But the costs climb higher every night.
I want you, I want you (to afford your life),
Not get gaslit by a president’s lie.
We can see the prices with our own two eyes,
I want you (to afford your life).

Stepped off the porch, hit the pump on the corner,
Digits started climbin’ like they smelled disorder.
Gas went up when Trump bombed Iran,
Now every commute pays for a weak man’s plan.

Every gallon’s got war priced into the math,
Foreign adventures hit the pump awfully fast.
Then I rolled my cart under supermarket lights,
Found sticker-shock tellin’ me reality bites.

Ground beef priced like a rich man’s treat,
Bread costs more, sweets got elite.
Tariffs jam the pipeline, prices creep, then leap,
Trump taxed the shelf and called the damage cheap.

Picked up, put back, did that twice,
That’s the new national anthem of the age of price.
And when they raid the hands that harvest, haul, and load,
Food costs rise from the field clear down the road.

They say the market’s hummin’, singin’ all is fine,
But I can read a bill and I can read a sign.

I want you (to afford your life)
Keep the lights on, make it through the night
He said day one would make it all all right
But the costs climb higher every night
I want you (to afford your life)
Don’t gaslight me with a stock price lie
We can see the prices with our own two eyes
I want you (to afford your life)

Pharmacy counter, text says refill delayed,
Same old prescription, brand-new price to pay.
Co-pay climbed up, coverage got thin,
You’ll get sick in this country with R.F.K. cashin’ in.

Health insurance up while the help got cut,
Boardroom smiles with the safety net shut.
Then they raid the kitchens, the job sites, the farms,
Rip the labor from the backbone and call it “reform.”

Food costs rise, construction jumps, hotel bills climb,
Mass deportation turns shortage into overtime.
Mama needs a visit, granddad needs care,
Home health costs soar but the G.O.P. don’t care.

He told us “day one,” now look where we’ve been.
Higher at the pump and the checkout again.
He waves that stock ticker like it feeds a child,
But I’ve seen the milk, the meat, the medicine climb.
War for the oil, tariffs on the crate,
Raids on the labor that put food on the plate.
Then they smile for the cameras and call it a win.
Tell me who can afford to be American.

What’s humming?
(The market)
What’s hurting?
(Our lives!)
They can brag on the Dow till the cameras go dark,
We still see the total in the grocery cart.

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Indie Anthem Art-Rock

Afrobeat

Ska

Synthwave

Minneapolis Dance-Punk

Boogie Blues Rock

80s Heartland Piano Rock

New Orleans Brass Band

New Orleans Brass Band Bounce Crossover

New Orleans Brass Band Dirge-To-Jubilee

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I’d been thinking about the phrase “we have friends everywhere” from the Star Wars series Andor as I was beginning to see the number of people showing up at our weekly protests rise, long before it became a line of solidarity during our recent unpleasantness.

So, I was delighted when I started seeing the Rebel Loon logo appearing everywhere (Star Tribune reporter Alicia Eler has the backstory on the graphic designer who created the original logo.)

It provides the perfect iconography for the song I wanted to create.

And congratulations to my fellow Minnesotans for being recognized with the JFK Profile in Courage award.

(I created a gazillion different genre versions for this one because it hits close to the heart. Scroll to the bottom to listen to the rest.)

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Lyrics

Black SUVs await
Windows dark as tar
Masked men scanning plates
From the unmarked car

Schools go dark at noon
Storefront shutters fall
Neighbors screaming warnings
Through a piercing whistle call

The loon on the lake goes silent
Circles in the gray
We watch them take our neighbors
And something breaks that day

No courtrooms, no mercy
Just masks and a plane
You see a mother taken
You just can’t look away

Rebel loon rising
Over frozen lake and pine
They call us rebel scum
We wear it with pride

Rebel loon rising
You can hear the whistle blow
We have friends everywhere
Right here in the falling snow

Someone tails the ICE convoy
Through our street’s frozen glare
Phones up, recording everything
We have watchers everywhere

Someone brings the groceries
To a family laying low
Someone tracks the charter flights
Through falling February snow

A poet says “I’m not mad at you”
Bleeding out on winter ground
A nurse asks “Are you okay?”
Before lethal shots ring out

The lake wind carries names now
Through every street and square
You thought you ruled the silence
But we have friends everywhere

Rebel loon rising
Across the prairie sky
They call us rebel scum
We answer standing high

Rebel loon rising
From Duluth to St. Paul square
We have friends everywhere
Watching the corruption laid bare

We blow the warning whistles
This is the way

We watch the courthouse doors
This is the way

We stand with cameras rolling
This is the way

We keep ICE awake at midnight
This is the way

We walk the kids to school
This is the way

We respond with the rapid networks
Across the state at all hours
This is the way

We deliver food and blankets
And guard the churchyard towers
This is the way

You call us rebel scum
We wear it proud today

Rebel loon rising
Hear the northern waters cry
Rebel loon rising
Under the North Star sky

Rebel loon rising
From the lakes to far away
We have friends everywhere
And they’re rising every day

Rebel loon rising
Let the empire hear us say
We have friends everywhere
This. Is. The way

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Space Opera Orchestral

Modernist Symphonic

Romantic-Era Orchestral

Cinematic Folk-Rock Industrial

Tribal March Orchestral

Dark Cinematic Synth Pop

Spy Cell Cinematic

Hard Core Punk

70s Fantasy Hard Rock

80s Prog Rock

80s Melodic Arena Rock

Alt Rock Arena

90s Alt Rock

80s New Wave

80s Art Pop

Emotional Power Pop

Piano-Driven Dramatic Pop

Confessional Piano Rock

Intimate Piano Alt Rock

Swamp Rock

70s Folk Rock

Acoustic Folk Rock

Literate Indie Folk

Dust Bowl

Union Hall Singalong

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I’ve compiled a No Kings playlist of many of the protest songs I’ve created thus far for use at No Kings rallies. If you want to use it for your own rally, you can grab the link at my YouTube channel.

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Movements.Rocks Origin Story

Attending the first No Kings rally in March 2025 is what really inspired me to start this newsletter.

There were a few rally-goers who brought music with them; a playlist of protest songs, old standards:

• This Land Is Your Land by Woody Guthrie

• Joan Baez and Pete Seeger singing We Shall Overcome

• Fortunate Son by CCR

• The Times They Are A-Changin’ by Bob Dylan

And many more. I watched how those songs delighted people. Motivated people. Got their feet moving. Energized people.

I had been experimenting with Suno for several months, so I was already aware of it’s capabilities.

It struck me then, though, that music is the perfect vehicle for delivering difficult messages, especially to people who are not inclined to listen to them. For those who are open to protest messages, moreover, music is motivating. Lastly, with the ability to rapidly create songs, I had the ability to respond to current events in near real-time.

My first serious attempt at a protest song was Memorial Day, which I published on May 26, 2025:

Fast forward to June, 2025 and the assassination of Speaker Melissa Hortman, her husband and dog and the attempted assissination of Senator John Hoffman on the day of the second No Kings rally.

The fact that Minnesotans came out in massive numbers for the rally despite the trauma of the murders and authorities telling us to stay home, inspired my first No Kings song.

I created an updated version of the song for the second No Kings rally in October 2025:

And now, for No Kings 3, here’s the latest version:

Who is this band?

Thanks for your support!

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I created this song for the nationwide Stand Up For Science protest this Saturday, on March 7, 2026. It forced me to think of all the blessings the scientific revolution has brought us and, conversely, the degrees to which the Epstein Administration is attacking science. This song is about both sides of that coin. I wanted it to be “list” song similar to Billy Joel’s fantastic song, We Didn’t Start The Fire.

Here’s a report detailing this regime’s attack on science.

Stand Up For Science Research

764KB ∙ PDF file

Download

Download

As always, scroll down for alternative genres.

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Lyrics

Smallpox gone, polio nearly
Measles faded, tetanus clearly
Vaccines rising, antibodies
mRNA in record bodies
Life expectancy doubled time
From thirty-one to seventy climb
Childhood fevers, history
Public health victory

Penicillin, sterile steel
Appendix burst but you still heal
Organ grafts and chemo drip
Radiation fighting it
Transplant hearts, insulin flow
ICU lights in afterglow
Once a sentence, now a chance
Modern medicine advanced

MRI and PET scan sight
Neurons firing in the night
Therapy, serotonin
Science brought the mind back home

Stand up for science
Stand up for truth
For every breakthrough
Built in a lab, built on truth
From the question “What if?”
To rockets in flight
Stand up for reason
Stand up for light

Power lines across the plains
Nuclear cores, electric trains
Solar fields and turbine spin
Battery cells storing wind
Factories and city glow
Industrial century flow
American grids, humming wires
Progress fueled the fires

Transistors, silicon
Microchips the world runs on
ARPANET to internet
Clouds of data overset
Artificial minds arise
Code behind our modern lives
Trillions in the GDP
Federal R&D

Jet propulsion, satellite
GPS in dead of night
Weather maps and hurricane track
Commercial flights that bring us back
Moonshot arcs and rover tread
Defense systems overhead
Coordinates that farmers use
Markets time their cues

Crop rotation, nitrogen
Hybrid seeds in rising sun
Green Revolution harvest wide
Eight billion fed worldwide
Precision tractors, soil mapped
Pest control, irrigation tapped
Midwest grain and orchard rows
Agriculture grows

Stand up for science
Stand up for truth
For every breakthrough
Built in a lab, built on truth
From the question “What if?”
To rockets in flight
Stand up for reason
Stand up for light

Clean Air Act, water clear
Ozone healing year by year
Wildfire models, storm prediction
Policy from data friction
Earthquake codes and crash test steel
Seatbelts law a life-saving deal
Fatal miles declining fast
Research built to last

Radar waves and cryptograph
WWII aftermath
Cyber walls and nuclear shield
Biodefense on every field
Universities ignite
Peer review and data right
Evidence in law and vote
Scientific note

Behavioral design and stats
Public health where people act
Sociology of streets
Psychology of markets’ beats
Combustion engines, traffic flow
Autonomous cars in tow
High-speed rails and air traffic lanes
Mobility sustains

Refrigerators humming cold
Running water, pipes of gold
Air conditioning summer nights
LED and city lights
Smartphones glowing in our hands
Streaming worlds on demand
Contact lenses, weather app
Insulated gap

Scientific method taught
Hypothesis tested thought
Data over fear and spin
Question first, then discipline
Every bridge and vaccine vial
Every aircraft crossing mile
Every chip and surgical scene
Started with “What does this mean?”

Grant lines cut, labs gone dark
NIH and NSF marked
NASA missions canceled midstream
CDC budget torn at the seam
Climate pages wiped away
Data vanished day by day
Advisory panels cleared
Peer review interfered

mRNA grants denied
Vaccine science pushed aside
WHO withdrawal signed
Global health funds undermined
Words like “science” quietly banned
Climate findings countermanded
Research frozen, scholars gone
Brain drain moving on

Endangerment erased
Education labs displaced
Foreign aid and PEPFAR cut
Journals threatened, funding shut
Grant approvals politicized
Integrity revised

Stand up for science
Stand up for fact
For every dataset
They tried to redact
For every researcher
Locked out at night
Stand up for reason
Stand up and fight

Stand up for science
For futures unseen
For questions still burning
For what might have been
From “What happens if?”
To cures we could find
Stand up for science
Stand up for humankind

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Anthemic Pop Rock

Indie Electronic Pop

Mimimalist Art Rock

Alternative Hip Hop

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This asshole is playing with all of our futures. Hopefully, this will turn his supporters against him…finally. (If you’re unfamiliar with the phrase, watch the movie Wag The Dog.) Scroll for more genres, as always.

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Lyrics

You said the border would be iron,
Said tariffs would make us rich,
Said prices would come down easy,
All you’d do is flip a switch.
You said you’d drain the swamp dry,
Break the deep state curse,
You told us it would be America First
But all I see is Americans last.

You swore you’d end the forever wars,
No more sons in desert sand,
No more folded flags on coffins
Delivered by a trembling hand.
You mocked those who marched us east
On lies and oil and on greed,
You told us it would be America First
But all I see is Americans last.

Epstein Files locked behind closed doors,
Deadlines passed, still wanting more,
Transparency promised, buried instead,
The powerful’s secrets left for dead.
Poll numbers falling, headlines burn,
So light a match and make it turn.

Wag the dog, shake the sky,
Fire a missile, sell a lie,
When the house is falling down
Find a war to spin around.
Wag the dog, beat the drum,
Hear the cameras start to hum,
When the questions get too hot
Start a war and change the plot.

Six hundred strikes in a single year,
Somalia skies, Yemen in fear,
Caribbean boats with a second tap,
Venezuela taken at gunpoint’s trap.
Nigeria Christmas cruise missiles fell,
Syria vengeance dressed up well.
No vote in Congress, no debate,
Just “inherent power” to seal their fate.

Operation this, operation that,
Names that sound like baseball bats,
Midnight Hammer, Southern Spear,
Absolute Resolve appears.
Hawkeye Strike and Rough Rider,
Every month the circle gets wider.

And now this.

Wag the dog, change the frame,
Call it freedom, call it flame,
Call it strength, call it pride,
Bury the truth beneath the tide.
Wag the dog, rally round,
Drown the doubt in bombing sound,
When approval slips away
Find a battlefield to play.

You said Iran’s one week from the bomb,
Then said their program’s gone,
You said it’s imminent and it’s clear,
Then said the danger disappeared.
You said diplomacy had failed,
While talks were quietly derailed.
You said missiles could reach our shore,
No proof, but always “just one more.”

You said it’s for Iran’s protesters dead,
For thirty-two thousand tears you shed.
You said it’s terror, nineteen seventy-nine,
Hostages frozen back in time.
You said they plotted you by name,
You said it’s Israel’s geopolitical game,
You said credibility’s at stake,
There are red lines we cannot break.

Regime change wrapped in liberty,
Freedom sold on primetime TV.
Twelve excuses, take your pick,
Every story twisting quick.

Where’s the vote that war requires?
Where’s the law above desires?
War Powers written in black and white,
Not bypassed in the dead of night.
You swore you’d end what others did,
Called them reckless, said you’d forbid.
Yet here we stand with soldiers dead,
Another Middle East bloodshed.

Wag the dog, strike the match,
Feed the fear to distract,
When The Files trend today
Send the carriers on their way.
Wag the dog, hear the roar,
Add another endless war,
From America First, you pounded your fist,
From “no more wars”…and now this.

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Early 80s Psychedelic

Art-Rock Anthem

Classic Rock

Swamp Rock

Boom-Chicka-Boom

Outlaw Country Ballad

Folk-Punk Protest

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Another installment of my song series from the point of view of Uncle Sam, this time as he watches the State of the Union address. (Scroll down for alternative genres…lots of them!)

Here are the other Uncle Sam songs:

• My Name Is Sam

• I Want You (To Uphold The Oath)

• I Want You (Citizen)
  

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Lyrics

I sit up in the gallery, my hat is in my hands
A ghost among the sycophants who ravaged our lands
The East Wing will be a ballroom, marble stripped away
He bought it with the treason that he celebrates today

Oh, he calls it a revival but I know it by its name
The watchdogs all are silenced in a manufactured game
From the Redwood Forests to Kyiv, there’s plenty left to save
But this is American Carnage and he’s dancing on our grave.

I watch him at the podium, a grifter on the throne
While loved ones vanish and families weep alone
The Metro Surge is sweeping, the FEMA funds are cold
The Georgia ballots stolen and the Constitution is sold

Oh, he calls it a revival but I know it by its name
The watchdogs all are silenced in a manufactured game
From the Redwood Forests to Kyiv, there’s plenty left to save
But this is American Carnage and he’s dancing on our grave.

He bows to the Russian tyrant while he takes the Qatar jet
The journalists are targeted, the truth is just a threat
Loyalty oaths muzzle the state, troops are on the street
While DOGE unleashes layoffs till the ruin is complete

Ten billion from our Treasury to subsidize his crime
A billion in the crypto bank, he’s squeezing every dime
The waters of the Everglades are poisoned by his greed
While millions of our children are denied the food they need.

Oh, he calls it a revival but I know it by its name
The watchdogs all are silenced in a manufactured game
From the Redwood Forests to Kyiv, there’s plenty left to save
But this is American Carnage and he’s dancing on our grave.

Yeah, the tariffs broke the working man…
And justice scales have been rigged…
But there is plenty left to save...the USA

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Classical Guitar & Vocals

Piano Ballad

Waltz Lament

Chamber Requiem

Ceremonial Bagpipe Lament

Countrypolitan

Southern Soul

Early 90s Art-Pop Jazz Influenced

Heavy Blues Doom

70s UK Street Punk

Early 80s Arena Hard Rock

Neo-Prog Art Rock

Cinematic American Rock

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Y’all get two songs this week…because I couldn’t help myself. Both in “honor” of the State of the Union address on Tuesday. This first one is from the point of view of trump himself. Tomorrow you’ll get the point of view of Uncle Sam as he watched the State of the Union. (Scroll down for alternate genres.)

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Lyrics

Welcome my friends to the floor of the House
We’ve silenced the watchdogs as quiet as mice
Just look at the gold we’ve installed in the room
The East Wing is gone, but just look at the price!
The state of the union is beautiful, folks
The system was rigged, my little joke

Oh the state of the union is beautiful, many people say
I’m selling the airwaves, the country’s my prey
The crypto is pumping, the family is paid
It’s the greatest agreement that I ever made
Pam Bondi at Justice agrees
The country looks best when it’s down on its knees!

I’ve got a new jet from the Qatari sheikhs
A four-hundred million apology gift
I sued my own Treasury, think of the stakes
It takes a true genius to manage the grift
The ballots in Georgia are under my lock
And DOGE took an axe to the government block

Oh the state of the union is beautiful, many people say
I’m selling the airwaves, the country is my prey
I’m pumping the crypto, the family is paid
It’s the greatest agreement that I ever made
Pam Bondi at Justice agrees
The country looks best when it’s down on its knees!

Why enforce laws when the bribery is sweet?
I paused the FCPA, take to the street!
Seventeen IGs I fired in the dark
And dumped all the rubbish in Potomac Park
The loyalty oaths are all signed on the line
The state of the union is perfectly mine.

We padlocked the schools, all the teachers are gone
A trillion in debt makes a beautiful pawn!
Ukraine is abandoned, my pal has the floor
While troops are deployed to the journalists’ door!
The tariffs are taxing the poor to the brink
But look at my ratings, and what do you think?!

Oh the state of the union is beautiful, many people say
I’m selling the airwaves, the country is my prey
The crypto is pumping, the family is paid
It’s the greatest agreement that I ever made
Pam Bondi at Justice agrees
The country looks best when it’s down on its knees!

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Dixieland / Ragtime Revival

Dark Jazz Noir

Punk Cabaret

Trap Swagger

90s SoCal Funk-Rock

Classic Arena Rock

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I created three songs for Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, the first of which was Silence Is Violence. This is the second, envisioning how MLK might view us now, were he alive. (And, you know, the fact that I don’t want to link to anything from the federal goverment because I can’t trust it to be historically accurate really speaks volumes of where we’re at.)

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Lyrics

I said the arc of the moral universe is long
But it bends toward justice; I was wrong
Or maybe just too hopeful, too naive to see
That arc can bend backwards into catastrophe

We marched from Selma’s bridge, we bled for voting rights
Now you purge the voter rolls and close the polls at night
In neighborhoods where Black and brown must wait in longer lines
Tell me how we’re bending toward justice this time

The arc bent backwards, we’re losing ground
Every right we won, you’re tearing down
The arc bent backwards, can you hear the sound?
Of freedom’s footsteps in reverse, of chains being bound

We integrated schools through court-ordered mandate
Now you’ve got segregation by zip code and real estate
School-to-prison pipeline, just slavery with new clothes
Mass incarceration for the crimes that poverty imposes

I died for the Poor People’s Campaign, for economic rights
You gave tax cuts to billionaires and left the poor to fight
Among themselves for scraps while billionaires hoard their wealth
The arc bent backwards into a new Gilded Age itself

We won hard-won battles against separate but equal’s lie
Now you’re bringing back the segregation, just with different battle cry
“Border security,” “law and order,” “making us safe again”;
The same excuses segregationists used back then

We fought to end the wars, to bring the soldiers home
You militarize the border and the police everywhere you roam
Weapons of war in the streets, used against your own
The arc bent backwards into a military zone

I preached nonviolence as the weapon of the strong
You meet peaceful protest with tear gas and batons
Pardon those who storm the Capitol to overturn the vote
While felonizing refugees and letting justice go

The arc bent backwards, can’t you see?
We’re marching toward the past, away from being free
The arc bent backwards; history repeats
When we forget that freedom’s not complete
Until the last of us are free

But arcs can bend again if we apply the weight
Of moral courage, mass resistance before it’s too late
The universe is long, but we don’t have all time
To stop this backwards slide, this regression into crime
Against humanity itself. The arc is ours to bend
The question is: how does this story end?

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Hip Hop

Choral Orchestral

Late 80s Rock

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The next No Kings Day protest is planned for March 28, so of course we need an updated version of the No Kings song. (Versions 1 No Kings and version 2 No Kings, No Crowns). Scroll to the bottom for alternate genres.

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Lyrics

You muzzle comics, silence late-night truth,
Fire the faithful, hire back the brutes
Who stormed the Capitol with fascist dreams,
Nothing’s sacred when you’re building your regime.

No kings, no crowns,
Hell no, we won’t stand down!
No thrones, no golden rings,
We serve the people, not kings.
No kings. (Hell no!)
No kings. Let that tyrant know!

SNAP cards empty, Medicaid denied,
While farmers watch their soybeans rot beside
The markets you destroyed with your tariff war.
Beijing won’t buy what they bought before.

No kings, no crowns,
Hell no, we won’t stand down!
No thrones, no golden rings,
We serve the people, not kings.
No kings. (Hell no!)
No kings. Let that tyrant know!

You destroyed the East Wing for a gilded ballroom floor,
Gatsby parties while we’re lined up at the food bank door;
You razed the People’s House for crystal chandeliers,
Hide the Epstein Files through redactions and smears.

No kings, no crowns,
Hell no, we won’t stand down!
No thrones, no golden rings,
We serve the people, not kings.
No kings. (Hell no!)
No kings. Let that tyrant know!

Your family cashes in while people starve,
Gold-plated grifters always getting large;
Contracts to cronies, justice up for sale,
The swamp’s not drained, it’s increased in scale.

No kings, no crowns,
Hell no, we won’t stand down!
No thrones, no golden rings,
We serve the people, not kings.
No kings. (Hell no!)
No kings. Let that tyrant know!

USAID gutted, world hunger left unchecked,
Antagonize our allies, leave the world a bloody mess;
ICE storms our cities, terrorizes our streets,
Masked thugs in vans where neighbors used to meet.

This ain’t a show, this is sacred ground,
Not your circus, not your crown.
We know a tyrant when he takes the stage;
Hell no, we won’t turn the page!

We will not bend the knee,
We will not prostrate before thee,
We will not sacrifice our dignity,
Because we cherish our liberty.

No kings (No kings!),
No lies (No lies!),
You can’t steal freedom with your battle cries.
No kings (No kings!),
No fear (No fear!),
We’re taking our country back this year.

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Southern Rock Anthem

Heartland Rock

Hard Core Punk

Stadium Rock

Hip Hop Protest

New Wave Protest

Outlaw Country

Folk

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I’ve been wanting to write a song about the valor and sacrifice of the 1st Minnesota Volunteer regiment’s role in preserving the Union victory during the battle of Gettysburg. After several false starts, I think I’ve found something that works. Here’s the research this song is based on:

1st Minnesota Volunteer Regiment

316KB ∙ PDF file

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Scroll to the bottom to hear alternate genres.

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Lyrics

In the spring of sixty-one, the word came down the wire
The Union was breaking and the house was set on fire
Governor Ramsey gave his word, the first to join the fight
A thousand men from Fort Snelling marched out into the night

But two years on the anvil makes a heavy hammer swing
From Antietam’s bloody water to the dread of Fredericksburg
By the summer heat of sixty-three, in the Pennsylvania dust
Only three hundred survivors left for the battle of the just.

On the second day at Gettysburg, the sun was sinking low
When Sickles moved his Third Corps out and left a hole to show
A mile of empty ridge where the Union heart should beat
And Wilcox’s Alabamians were coming with the heat

General Hancock looked around, his face was turning gray
He saw the gap, he saw the end, he saw the coming day
He saw the First Minnesota, just two hundred sixty-two
He said, “Colonel, take those colors. It’s the only thing to do.”

And the center must hold, boys, the center must hold
Two hundred sixty-two hearts, fierce and bold
Buying five minutes with eighty-two percent
For the soul of a nation, that’s where the blood went
Down in the swale where the Plum Run flows red
The Union was saved by the Minnesota dead.

They didn’t stop to fire, they didn’t stop to pray
They leveled out their bayonets and they ran into the Gray
Five-to-one the odds were set, a “forlorn hope” they call
But they hit them like a timber-bolt and they didn’t let it fall

The colors hit the dirt five times in fifteen minutes’ time
And five times another hand reached up to keep the flag sublime
They didn’t break the rebel line, they just made it stop and stare
While the Union brought the cannons up and the help was finally there.

And the center must hold, boys, the center must hold
Two hundred sixty-two hearts, fierce and bold
Buying five minutes with eighty-two percent
For the soul of a nation, that’s where the blood went
Down in the swale where the Plum Run flows red
The Union was saved by the Minnesota dead.

The next day Marshall Sherman took the flag from the Virginia line
We keep it in a vault today, a trophy for all time
When they come asking for it back, the answer’s always “No”
It was bought with the blood of our grandfathers long ago

And the spirit of the First is in the North Star State today
When the shadows reach for our neighbors, we don’t look the other way
Whether it’s a rebel charge or a knock upon the door
Minnesotans stand together—we’ve done it all before.

When thugs roam our streets, we fill the gap
When thugs abduct, we fill the gap
When injustice demands a record, we fill the gap
When families need to eat, we fill the gap
When the helpers need funds, we fill the gap
When democracy needs defending, we fill the gap

Two hundred sixty-two went down…
Forty-seven walked away…
The highest price that’s ever paid…
To save the USA.
Yeah, we hold the center
Yesterday and today.

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Heartland Country Rock

Indie-Folk

Celtic Rock

Dark Synthwave

Which genre do you like best?

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Another Minnesotan murdered in cold-blood by our own government and the smear campaign that follows. We’ve seen this movie before. (Scroll to the bottom for different genre versions. I’ve tried to make all of them faithful to Minnesota music throughout the years.)

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Lyrics

In the blue light hum of the VA hall
Where the veterans fade and the shadows crawl
Alex Pretti would walk with a gentle decree
From the silent machines to the last ones who breathe

He’d count out the breathing and he would know
When a soldier was ready and waiting to go
He handled the dying with dignified grace
A master of mercy in that final place

Oh, the healer is down in the Minneapolis snow
Where the feds came for blood just to put on a show
They twisted his arm while he held up his phone
And silenced the man who helped one of his own
At 26th and Nicollet mercy was met
By the bullets of State and a government debt.

He didn’t have rank and he didn’t have greed
Just a nursing degree and a will to succeed
If success is a measure of who you protect
And leaving this world more human than wrecked

They sprayed in his eyes till the world went to gray
Then the masked force took reason away
Ten shots in the morning when he was under control
For the sin of a witness, for his Constitutional role

“Today we remember that freedom is not free. We have to work at it, nurture it, protect it and even sacrifice for it. May we never forget and always remember our brothers and sisters who have served so that we may enjoy the gift of freedom. In this solemn hour, we render our honor and our gratitude.”

Pam Bondi spewed her cold-blooded lies
Called the servant a terrorist to veil their crimes
They photographed the gun he never did draw
To justify murder and clothe it in law

From the Oval of venom, the slander was hurled
At the man who gave breath into a suffocating world
The video is everywhere, the truth is the flood
That turns the tide for the price of his blood

Oh, the healer was put down in the Minneapolis snow
Where the feds came for blood just to put on a show
They twisted his arm while he held up his phone
And silenced the man who helped one of his own
But the voice of the people is loud and is clear:
We will not rest till freedom and justice are here

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

1980s Minneapolis Punk

Early 90s Minnesota Alt Rock

Late 90s Minnesota Alt Pop

Anthemic Minnesota Indie Rock

80s MN Funk Rock

Minnesota Hip Hop

Minnesota Folk Protest Ballad

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What would Martin Luther King, Jr. think if he could see us today?

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Lyrics

You post my quotes in pretty fonts once every January
Share my dream on Instagram, performative and temporary
Then scroll past the news of children dying in detention
And tell yourself you’re one of the good ones, beyond contention

But I wrote from Birmingham Jail about people just like you
The white moderate who prefers order over what is true
Who says “I agree with your goals but not your methods or your timing”
While the boot’s upon the neck and the oppressed are still dying

Your silence is violence, your comfort is complicity
You quote me like a prophet but ignore my prophecy
That the greatest tragedy’s not the actions of the bad
But the silence of the good, and you’re the silence that I had
Warned against in 1963, now fifty years later
You’re still choosing order over justice; modern moderator
Of discussions about rights like they’re abstract thought experiments
While real people disappear and you maintain your temperament

You celebrate my holiday with sales and days off work
Then vote for politicians who make cruelty their perk
Who raid the schools and churches, who cage the refugee
And you say “Well, I didn’t vote for that specifically”

But you voted for the package, for the fear that they would stoke
For the promises to hurt the ones you’ve othered with your vote
And now you want to wash your hands like Pilate did before
Say “I’m not responsible” while they’re breaking down the door

I said injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere
But you built borders in your mind that say “Not my cross to bear”
“Not my problem,” “Not my people,” “They should’ve come legally”
While you stand on stolen land, on wealth built by slavery

You weaponize my words about judging by character alone
To attack affirmative action and dismantle what was won
You claim to be colorblind; convenient for the privileged
But I never said ignore the racism that’s been inherited

Where are you when they’re raiding? Where’s your voice, where’s your presence?
Where’s your outrage when they cage the innocent? Where’s your resistance?
Or does justice only matter when it’s comfortable and safe?
When it doesn’t cost you anything, doesn’t challenge your own place?

You think you’re not like them because you don’t hold the keys
To the cages and the camps, but your silence is the grease
That keeps the machine running smooth, that gives cover to the crime
Your silence is violence, and you’re running out of time

Your silence is violence, your comfort is their pain
Every time you look away, every time you stay
In your bubble of protection while the vulnerable suffer
You become complicit in making this world tougher
For those who have no safety, no defense, no voice
Your silence is violence, and silence is a choice

So this is your MLK Day call to arms, to action
Not to celebrate my memory but to break from your abstraction
The dream demands your presence, your discomfort, your stand
Your body on the line, not just your thoughts or plans

Because history will ask what side you took, what you did when it mattered most
And “I was silent” won’t be enough; You’ll be counted with the host
Of those who let it happen when you could have said no
Your silence is violence. Now you know

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Neo Soul/Jazz Rap

Punk Protest Anthem

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My state is under attack by the federal government.

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Lyrics

Minneapolis winter, a neighborhood street
School run is over, the snow at her feet
Renee Nicole Good, with a dog in the back
Watching the line where the ice turns to black
Her window was open with his camera held near
She looked up at the man who didn’t belong there

She didn’t raise her voice or brace to run
Didn’t reach for anything, least of all a gun
She looked him in the eye like people do
And said, “That’s fine, dude. I’m not mad at you.”
Nothing rehearsed, nothing meant to last
Just a human moment passing fast

But Jonathan Ross didn’t care for the grace
He held up his phone while circling the space
Like a wolf in the winter, he stalked around
Seeking the angle, hunting the ground
He waited for the moment, he waited for fear
While her words of forgiveness still hung in the air

She turns the wheel, advances slow
He pulls his gun, letting the violence grow
One through the windshield, two to the head
To make damn sure she’d be pronounced dead
“I’m not mad at you”: Her final grace
Before his bullets ripped through her face.

You can’t kill the Good and call it domestic terror
You can’t murder the victim and smear the crossbearer
They forsook the good inside their hearts
Now they’re trying to kill the good in ours
They’ve forsaken the good, traded souls for control
And they’re shooting at the good in the soul of us all

He didn’t check her pulse, he didn’t check for breath
He just cursed the woman he had put to death
“Fucking bitch”—that’s what he said
While her brutalized body bled.
One voice offered mercy, one voice hate
And that’s the measure of the state.

You can’t kill the Good and call it domestic terror
You can’t murder the victim and smear the crossbearer
They forsook the good inside their hearts
Now they’re trying to kill the good in ours
They’ve forsaken the good, traded souls for control
And they’re shooting at the good in the soul of us all

We had whistles. They had guns.
We had daughters. They had sons.
Renee said peace. Ross brought war.
And we will not forget who the whistle is for.

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Coldwave

Drone Folk

Dark Americana

Gospel Lament

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On every issue, Trump is under water with the American people generally and even with his own supporters. People are starting to see through the lies. It can’t come soon enough.

Oh, and be sure to check out my song Memorial Day on this anniversary of January 6.

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Lyrics

Receipt’s on the counter, this month’s budget is gone
A single bag of groceries and I feel like a pawn.
I remember the rally, I remember the roar
“Fix it on Day One,” is what we voted for.

Now the daycare’s shuttered, padlocks on the gate
They cut the credits, said we just had to wait.
My wife’s crying in the kitchen, counting out the dimes
I thought we’d be winning, dreamt of good times.

I fought with my family, I fought with my friends,
I defended the Big Lie ‘til the bitterest of ends.
I burned every bridge just to stand by your side,
Now you’re lining your pockets while you take us for a ride.
It was supposed to be America First,
But all I see is Americans Last.

My chest got tight on a Tuesday night
I sped to the clinic to calm my fright.
But the windows were black, chains on the door
They killed the funding, just like they swore.

Now it’s a hundred miles of asphalt to the E.R. bay
Praying the transmission holds, hoping I can pay.
My premium’s higher than it’s ever been
Tell me, is this really how we win?

I fought with my family, I fought with my friends,
I defended the Big Lie ‘til the bitterest of ends.
I burned every bridge just to stand by your side,
Now you’re lining your pockets while you take us for a ride.
It was supposed to be America First,
But all I see is Americans Last.

I saw the masked thugs raid the construction site
Snatched up the workers in broad daylight.
Trump promised to deport the “worst of the worst,”
But they grabbed the diner waitress and threw her in first.

And Luis the gardener? He’s gone to the camp,
Shivering cold under a sodium lamp.
I voted for order, I voted for law,
But this ain’t justice, it’s cruelty I saw.

Turn on the news, he gave Ukraine to the bear
Turned his back on the slaughter, said he didn’t care.
Now Trump’s started a war for Venezuela’s crude
Sending our boys to die for a billionaire’s feud.
He destroyed the People’s House for a gilded hall,
Throwing Gatsby parties while we lose it all.
And the Epstein Files? Yeah, they buried those deep.
Tell me, what secrets is the President so desperate to keep?

Yeah, I wanted a savior.
I wanted a change.
But looking in the mirror…
It all looks deranged.
“Day One,” he said.
“Day One...”

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Piano Blues

70s West Coast Soft Rock

Heartland Pop-Rock

Classic Blues Rock

Southern Rock

60s Garage Cabaret Rock

80s Hair Metal

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It is easy to get demoralized by the daily flood of atrocities and horribles being inflicted on Americans and the world by this regime. But it is inspiring to see that we’re not taking this shit lying down; we’re standing up, we’re pushing back, and we’re winning in opposition. We are strong and they are weak.

Take a look back at 2025 and recognize just how much we’ve accomplished as we’ve defended our way of life. The lyrics below include links to many of those wins. Also scroll to the bottom for alternate versions of this song.

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Lyrics

We heard the heavy boots coming for the town
But we had a tool to shut the whole thing down.
Three sharp blasts, yeah, we blew the device
A thousand shrill whistles to melt the ICE.

And down at Home Depot, we formed the queue
With a seventeen-cent scraper and a job to do.
We clogged up the lines, yeah, we made them wait
Turned corporate collaboration into a national debate.

They told us to scatter, they told us to hide
But we found the power on the other side...

And we said No Kings. We said no crowns.
We said hell no! We did not stand down.
Twelve million voices make a solemn vow.
From courtrooms to our neighborhoods, we stood tall
They tried to build a fortress, we became the wall.
Yeah, we held the line. (We held the line!)

Up in Wisconsin, Elon tried to buy a judge
But the voters said nah, they wouldn’t budge.
And the Blue Wave flipped seats in New Jersey, Virginia,
Iowa, Georgia, Mississippi, and Pennsylvania.

Texas rigged the maps to steal the fight
But California answered to set the balance right.
In deep red Indiana, the GOP said (no!)
They looked at Trump, said (We will not bow!)

They told us it’s over, they told us to fold
But courage is a currency that can’t be sold.

And we said No Kings. We said no crowns.
We said hell no! We did not stand down.
Twelve million voices make a solemn vow.
From courtrooms to our neighborhoods, we stood tall
They tried to build a fortress, we became the wall.
Yeah, we held the line. (We held the line!)

And look who’s marching in the pouring rain,
Pepe switched sides, broke the fascist chain.
The frogs joined the people, yeah, we took it back
Turning hate into love on a brand new track.

From the Rapid Response on our neighborhood streets
To the Chanhassen roof in the snow and the sleet...
The Winter Watch stood guard in the sub-zero air
To return a worker to his family’s prayer.

And we said No Kings. We said no crowns.
We said hell no! We did not stand down.
Twelve million voices make a solemn vow.
From courtrooms to our neighborhoods, we stood tall
They tried to build a fortress, we became the wall.
Yeah, we held the line. (We held the line!)

We held the line.
2026, it’s our time.
No Kings!

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Rock Anthem

Cinematic Rock

Funk Rock

Country Rock

Indie Pop Anthem

Modern Folk Protest

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Trump’s economy has Santa cutting corners. He’s checked his naughty list: There will be no Christmas in DC this term. (Scroll down for alternate genres).

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Lyrics

The North Pole’s melting and the soot is in my lungs,
I’ve had a bellyful of lies from all your silver tongues.
I’m tossing out the velvet suit, I’m burning every toy,
There’s nothing left in DC for Santa to enjoy.

Robert Kennedy, stand up! You like the “natural” way?
I’m taking back the polio shots I gave you in your day.
No presents for your stocking, just a glass of rusted lead,
And a plague of “Natural Measles” to keep you in your bed.

No “Ho-Ho-Ho,” just a “No-No-No,”
I’m packing up the sleigh and I’m ready to go.
You wanted MAGA? Well, I’ll give it to you straight:
It’s Misery, Avarice, Greed, and Hate.
I’m taking back the magic, I’m taking back the light,
You’re getting what you earned on this cold, black night.

Elon, you’re a special case, you techno-fascist clown,
You dismantled USAID and watched the world drown.
You want “Efficiency”? Well, here’s a gift that’s DOGE approved:
A self-driving Cybertruck with the brakes removed.

I’m taking back your childhood dreams of reaching for the stars,
And leaving you a one-way ticket... to a cage on Mars.
Stephen Miller, you’re the next; the architect of fear,
I’m deporting you to “Nowhere” without shedding a single tear.

No “Ho-Ho-Ho,” just a “No-No-No,”
I’m packing up the sleigh and I’m ready to go.
You wanted MAGA? Well, I’ll give it to you straight:
It’s Misery, Avarice, Greed, and Hate.
I’m taking back the magic, I’m taking back the light,
You’re getting what you earned on this cold, black night.

Pam Bondi, you’re the hunter? Well, the prey has got a list,
I’m taking back the Justice that you twisted in your fist.
Kash Patel, you ink the files and hide the Epstein names?
I’m gifting you a spotlight that’ll expose your pathetic claims.

Tulsi, here’s a nesting doll with Putin’s face inside,
And a permanent vacation where there’s nowhere left to hide.
Tom Emmer, take your “Big Ugly Bill”, your trillion-dollar heist,
And make your case to the tender mercies of the antichrist.

Donald Jr., Eric, and the Crypto-King regime,
I’m crashing every server in your digital-gold dream.
Jared, here’s a bucket of that “Oligarchal Sand,”
For the grift you tried to proffer over stolen Ukraine land.
And for the “big man” in the West Wing, the one who thinks he’s god,
I’m taking back the plunder and I’m leaving you the rod.

The reindeer are all starving and the elves have gone on strike,
I had to pawn the Christmas sleigh in exchange for a motor-bike.
You’ve destroyed our nation’s economy while disgracing our name,
We all know who to point to, we all know whose to blame.

So I’m taking back the pardon, I’m taking back our name,
I’m leaving you with nothing but the shadow of your shame.
No “Ho-Ho-Ho,” just a “No-No-No,”
I’ve got one gift left before I go:
It’s a mirror in a frame made of bitter, black coal,
So you finally have to look... at the hole in your soul.
Check the return address. The North Pole is closed.

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Do-Wop

1960s Dramatic Pop

Ukulele

Christmas Carol

Dark Christmas

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The rationale and arguments for why the Trump administration needs to blow up tiny boats off the coast of South America aren’t adding up. Their refusal to release the tape of the re-strike video to kill two attack survivors speaks volumes. Starting to see a trend with the refusal to files. Here’s the research [PDF].

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Lyrics

You like the highlights, don’t you, Pete?
The morning rush, the cable news treat.
Upload the kill shot to Truth Social
Make the violence go viral, make the slaughter emotional.

“We find ‘em, we sink ‘em,” that’s the line you sell
Send a fiberglass fishing boat straight to hell.
You call it “Southern Spear,” you call it a win
Smiling for the camera with that warrior grin.

It’s war porn, baby, cut for the feed
Satisfying the hunger, the gluttonous need.
Twenty-two strikes, eighty-seven dead
But there’s one little file you’re keeping in your head.

You show us the hits when the target explodes
But the screen goes black when the story erodes.
“Fog of war,” “Operational stress”
Just fancy words for a bloody mess.

Release the tape
Release the Venezuela video
Show us the truth you’re trying to veto.

Release the tape
Release the double-tap video
Let’s hear the traffic on the radio

You say it’s justice, you say it’s clean,
So why are you terrified of that one screen?

RELEASE THE DAMN TAPE!

September Second. The water is black.
The first missile hits, breaks the vessel’s back.
Two men in the water, clinging to the wreck
No threat to anyone, no gun on the deck.

Shipwrecked survivors, waving for a hand
Begging for mercy, miles from the land.
The Law of War Manual, page one-one-three
Says you pull them out, you don’t kill the debris!

But the comms go hot, the order is tall:
An anonymous source claims: “KILL THEM ALL.”
A second missile. A “re-strike” flare
“Double tap” sounds nice when you simply don’t care.

Vaporized hands waving at the sky
Tell me, Mr. Secretary, why did they die?

Release the tape
Release the Venezuela video
Show us the truth you’re trying to veto.

Release the tape
Release the double-tap video
Let’s hear the traffic on the radio

You say it’s justice, you say it’s clean,
So why are you terrified of that one screen?

RELEASE THE DAMN TAPE!

You seized the Skipper, the biggest tanker at sea
Two million barrels, boarded peacefully.
You can capture a giant with a boarding crew
But a twelve-meter panga is too scary for you?

You can’t seize a dinghy? You can’t make an arrest?
Or is blowing them up just a virility test?
Now you’re passing the buck to Admiral Mitch
Hiding behind stars while you flip the switch.

It’s a binary choice, Pete, pick your crime:
It’s either Murder... or War Crime.
Which one is it?
WHICH ONE IS IT?

Sick and twisted.
Political theater.
Sick and twisted.
War porn repeater.

Show us the survivors.
Show us the wave.
Show us the missile.
Show us the grave.

Release the Venezuela video.
Release the Venezuela video.
We know what you did.

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Arena Rock

Castle Metal

Industrial Rock

Heartland Rock

Lounge Lizard

Dark Cabaret

Sunny Pop

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This song dramatizes how Trump has screwed a group that has been one of his most stalwart supporters, now that he no longer needs them for electoral purposes.

Why now?

During the month of December, midwest soy bean farmers are typically shifting from physical fieldwork to business management and logistics.

• Tax Management: Farmers operate on a cash basis for taxes. In December, they often rush to pre-pay for next year’s seed, fertilizer, and chemicals to lower their taxable income for the current year.

• Grain Marketing: They closely monitor the markets to decide whether to sell the grain they stored in harvest bins or keep holding it for better prices later in winter.

• Lender Meetings: This is prime time for meeting with ag lenders to secure operating lines of credit for the upcoming growing season.

A new trade deal with China resumes purchase of American soy beans but it is unlikey to match pre-Trump tariff levels, causing economic hardship for farmers as they determine how they might survive. Watch this analysis for a deeper explanation.

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Lyrics

The coffee’s stale, the grease is cold,
I’m reading lies I’ve just been told.
The screen says “China’s Buying More,”
Like they’re knocking down our door.

But I run the math, I check the chart,
It’s enough to stop a beating heart.
Trump calls it a win, a brand new deal,
But I know exactly how this feels.

It’s a time machine, a backward slide,
With nowhere left for us to hide.

Yeah, we’re partying like it’s 2004,
But China don’t play no more.
They built new roads to Brazil’s gate,
While I sit here and contemplate.

Cashing checks that kill my pride,
Need the government just to survive.
I ain’t a farmer, I’m a welfare case,
Staring down the end of the race.

Just a ghost in a machine shop light,
Trying to make the ledger right.

My planter’s sitting in the shed,
Stripped down bare, looking dead.
Needs a bearing that I cannot find,
Another casualty of the grind.

Dealer says it’s four months out,
Supply chains choked with fear and doubt.
Spring is coming like a freight train,
But my iron’s stuck in some shipping lane.

Tariff wars and broken parts,
Breaking backs and breaking hearts.
I heard the news from Washington,
About the deal that they just done.

Twenty billion sent down south,
While a bitter taste fills up my mouth.
Trump bails them out to float the Peso,
So they can plant what we should grow.

They cut their tax and filled the ships,
With soy bean cash and diplomatic quips.
Our tariff costs paving Brazil’s lane,
Funding the knife that cuts my vein.

I look out past the machine shed glass,
At the snow-covered soy and frozen grass.
But the horizon’s changing, glowing bright,
Suburban sprawl in the winter night.

Developers calling every day,
“Turn that dirt to a cul-de-sac play.”
Life-changing money on the line,
To leave this broken trade behind.

Every loss makes the offer sweet,
To pave my fields with asphalt streets.
So I’m closing the checkbook, drawing the line,
No pre-pay fertilizer this time.

Let the co-op preach their soil test,
I’m putting the “Starvation Strategy” to the rest.
Profit over yield, that’s the new creed,
Sap analysis is all I need.

I’ll feed ‘em a teaspoon, not a ton,
And pray I’m right when the season’s done.
If I’m wrong, the auctioneer calls,
If I’m right... I just stall the fall.

Yeah, we’re partying like it’s 2004,
But China don’t play no more.
They built new roads to Brazil’s gate,
While I sit here and contemplate.

Cashing checks that kill my pride,
Need the government just to survive.
I ain’t a farmer, I’m a welfare case,
Staring down the end of the race.

Just a ghost in a machine shop light,
Trying to make the ledger right.

Who is this band?

Alternate Genres

Dark Americana

Swamp Rock

90s Alternative Rock

Coldwave

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