Dear Mr President

(Black-velvet voice, slow minor-key dirge, dripping reverb, church organ underneath)
Verse 1
Dear Mr. President,
I write from a tomb of frustration,
Where citizens dig graves for the truth
That your institutions refuse to bury or raise.
We’ve laid the documents in the moonlight,
Followed the money through catacombs of lies,
And still your silence is colder than stone,
Colder than the breath of the dead who won’t sleep.
Pre-chorus
Receipts in our pale hands,
Names carved in black ink,
Yet the gates of justice stay rusted and locked,
While the hourglass bleeds.
Chorus
We are the watchers in the dark,
Chanting for the veil to tear,
Seditious six, Epstein’s book,
Ilhan’s shadows, statutes almost dust.
Open the crypt, let the light devour,
Or trust will rot forever in this funeral hour.
Verse 2
January sixth, a haunted cathedral,
Evidence vanished like incense in wind.
Russia, collusion, a theater of ghosts,
Every act rehearsed, no curtain, no end.
The clocks in the tower strike midnight too soon,
Limitations dying like martyrs in flame,
While the powerful dance on the graves of the rules
And laugh through the mouths of the legally maimed.
Bridge (whispered, almost spoken)
We’ve carried the torches,
We’ve screamed at the sky,
Still the names stay sealed in obsidian jars.
Tell us why.
Tell us why.
Final Chorus (full band, thunderous)
We are the children of the night,
Sick of the secrets you keep out of sight.
Seditious six, Epstein’s book,
Ilhan’s shadows, statutes almost dust.
Drag the truth into the fire, let it burn, let it scream,
Or the republic itself becomes the final bad dream.
Outro (single decaying piano note)
The country is watching…
And we no longer fear the dark.
We are the dark.

Psychedelic Rock with Echoing Guitars and Hypnotic Grooves, rap, hip hop, reggae, dub, house, glitch, glitch hop, male