Verse 1

We watch the walls go up in numbers,

currencies turned into siege,

the summer heat makes no exceptions

for the ones who hold the keys.

A palace sends its careful statement,

a king grown thin against the stone,

and somewhere small and past all reckoning,

the youngest grief we've ever known.

Chorus

We carry the outrage like a country carries debt,

a weight that compounds in the chest, compounds and won't reset.

The threats come dressed in certainty,

the kites rise from the wire —

we are not done demanding more

than what was called by fire.

Bridge

There's a Tuesday in the way the world holds still,

not quite the crash of Monday, not the weekend's thrill —

just the long mid-week accounting,

what was promised, what was built,

what we owe the smallest voices,

what we carry for the spilt.

Support sworn through outrageous weather,

alliances pressed into seams —

even summer can't unbind us

from the weight of what this means.

Verse 2

A recall on the things we trusted,

the hidden latch, the unseen flaw,

we thought the handle would be obvious —

we thought we'd all agreed on law.

But justice comes in strange reckonings,

some cells, some grief, some open sky,

and none of it quite closes cleanly,

none of it explains the why.

Outro

We're still here in the hard mid-summer,

still naming what must be named,

still outraged, still demanding,

still tenacious, still unclaimed.

Instrumental Outro

How did it make you feel?

A new song arrives tomorrow.