harrowed · simmering · unrelenting
A Wednesday in high summer that carries no rest — the week is neither beginning nor end, and the world presses on through missile fire, migration, and the grim theater of power, each headline arriving like heat that has no plan to break.
Wednesday Holds No Mercy
Verse 1
We watched the street go quiet wrong
A market stall, a running man
The cameras caught what daylight sang
And no one turned the image off
The week sits heavy in its middle
Neither start nor any end
Summer burns the same on rubble
As it does on living land
Chorus
We do not choose the day we grieve
We do not choose the names we keep
The funerals run long this season
The season runs and will not sleep
We count the ones who crossed the water
We count the ones who did not come
Wednesday holds no mercy for us
But we hold on to what we've done
Verse 2
A power dressed in borrowed robes
A courthouse wearing unfamiliar faces
The oil slick of diplomacy
Still spreading out across the straits
We've learned to read the press release
For what it buries in between
A commendation means a crisis
A reopening means the squeeze
Bridge
One hundred twelve were laid to rest
Three years of waiting for the ground
The living carry what the dead
Could not be given while they drowned
In all this ordinary August heat
We still assemble, still arrive
Not because the news gave us reason
But because we are still alive
Outro
We do not choose the day we grieve
We do not choose
Wednesday and the summer
Unrelenting, unresolved
Instrumental Outro
How did it make you feel?
A new song arrives tomorrow.
Hear tomorrow's song →