Cello for a Collapsing Empire

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[Verse 1]
They put kids in cages
Called it “border security”
Like cruelty’s a spreadsheet
And grief’s a line item fee
Flag pins on their lapels
While they barcode every tear
Smile for the cameras
Senator
The midterms are almost here

[Verse 2]
There’s a man in a red hat
Selling fear like it’s cheap perfume
Tweets at three in the morning
Turn the world into one big room
“Law and order” speeches
Over footage of burning towns
He builds walls in his mirror
Then wonders why he drowns

[Chorus]
Bring your cello to the checkpoint (hey)
Scratch the bow across the lie
Play a requiem for empire
Under this barbed-wire sky
If justice is “too political”
Guess mercy is contraband
So we’ll sing until the tear gas
Finally understands

[Verse 3]
They say “thoughts and prayers” on Monday
“funding’s tight” by Friday noon
Pocket change for children’s meds
Blank checks to bomb the moon
Every drone strike livestreamed
Then buried in a thread
They argue in the comments
While another town plays dead

[Pre-Chorus]
They chant “USA” in the chamber
Like it’s some holy spell
But if freedom means a profit margin
What’s the going rate for hell? (oh)

[Chorus]
Bring your cello to the checkpoint
Scratch the bow across the lie
Play a lullaby for soldiers
Who were told not to ask why
If peace is “bad for business”
Guess love’s contraband
So we’ll sing until the contracts
Shake out of their hands

[Bridge]
[Cello swells from a whisper to a harsh
Percussive growl]
You signed the order
Washed your hands
“Just the law
” you calmly said
But the law can be a weapon
When it’s aiming at a bed
Kids on concrete in Mylar
Shiver under TV glow
You pledge allegiance to the market
And call that “all we can do
You know”

[Verse 4]
You bragged about “very fine people”
And “herd immunity”
Spun a plague into a press tour
Then blamed “blue state” casualties
Photo-op with a Bible
You never bothered to read
The Sermon on the Mount is trending
For “violating terms of greed”

[Chorus]
Bring your cello to the rally
Let it roar above the chant
Turn every slur and slogan
Into a question they can’t grant
If truth is “too divisive”
Guess facts are contraband
So we’ll bow until the palace
Crumbles into sand

[Outro]
[Cello drops back to a single low
Trembling note]
I don’t want your gilded cages
Or your bloodstained party lines
Just a world where every border
Is a word we redefine
So when they draft the history
And dress it up as grace
We’ll be the scratched-up cello
Screaming from the footnotes
Face to face