Burying The Truth
We'll keep digging it up
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.)
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