In a week where the Grim Reaper seemingly swapped his scythe for a starting flag, Trump eulogised a NASCAR driver with his customary all-caps reverence, proving that in America, death is just another opportunity for a 'LEGENDARY' typo. Elsewhere, the youth of Rhode Island are treating bail conditions with the same casual disregard a Russian goaltender shows for silverware, whilst Miley Cyrus celebrated her immortality on the Hollywood pavement in a dress that leaves little to the imagination and less to the tailors. It’s a chaotic tapestry of exploding shipyards, drug-riddled homes, and a Ford truck held hostage by robins—a timely reminder that nature always wins, even if humanity is too busy dropping trophies to notice.
🎵 (s)Hit of the Day 🎵
Version 1
Version 2
📜 Lyrics 📜
[Intro]
[Deep fretless bass pulse]
[Military snare echoes]
[Choppy guitar scratches]
[Verse 1]
A statement drops in blocky print
ALL CAPS SINCERE, no need to squint
A racing driver meets his end
And famous friends pretend to bend
The knee in typed-up reverence
A courtroom dramatic permanence
The flag flies half-mast on command
While grounders slip right through the hand
[Verse 2]
The keeper raised the silver cup
Then moment's up, the treasure's dropped
Yaroslavl's pride in shards remains
A metaphor for all our pains
Whatever good we manage here
Dissolves to panic, doubt and fear
We cannot keep a grip on joy
It shatters like a broken toy
[Chorus]
We're dropping everything we hold
The trophies and the truths of old
The silver cups, the moral code
We're dropping everything we hold
[Agogo bells strike]
Everything we hold
[Verse 3]
A teenager on bail for arms
Goes to the beach and does more harm
A walking joke of justice failed
The system broken, nailed and failed
The paramedics fall in heaps
From powder drifting while they sleep
The firemen catch fire and fall
There's no one left to take the call
[Bridge]
[Farfisa organ swell]
And in a truck in Kansas fields
A nest of robins blocks the wheels
Nature's squatters, legally sound
You can't move them, you're earthbound
The law protects the tiny birds
While gutters fill with bloody words
Permits for nests, but none for us
We're left to rot, no fuss, no fuss
[Guitar Solo]
[Staccato Telecaster scratches]
[Treble emphasis]
[Chorus]
We're dropping everything we hold
The trophies and the truths of old
The silver cups, the moral code
We're dropping everything we hold
[Spoken] Can't keep a grip on anything
[Verse 4]
A concrete star on Hollywood
Where tourists walk on all that's good
Miley's name beneath their feet
The highest honour's obsolete
Just pavement stamps for passing trade
A legacy that starts to fade
The moment that the ink is dry
We build it up and watch it die
[Outro]
[Deep bass oscillation]
Dropped it
[Snare crack]
Dropped it all
[Bass fade]
Everything we hold
[Final echo]
Everything...
[Silence]