Iran insists a nuclear deal isn't imminent, presumably because premature diplomatic celebration is terribly gauche, though oil traders are already spending the projected peace dividend. Elsewhere, a gentleman who informed the Secret Service he was Jesus Christ decided to take potshots at the White House—a rather unorthodox application for the position of Messiah. With temperatures in Delhi hitting 45 degrees and Ebola cases stacking up in the Congo, the world seems determined to remind us that the Four Horsemen aren't just taking a Sunday stroll. One might say the apocalypse is booking up faster than a budget airline seat sale.
🎵 (s)Hit of the Day 🎵
Version 1
Version 2
📜 Lyrics 📜
[Verse 1]
The Secretary smiles for cameras, hints at something new
A breakthrough with the Iranians, a treaty coming through
But Tehran makes a call before the ink has even dried
And optimism tanks the price before the weekend's tide
The barrel drops a dollar on the whisper of accord
As peaceful resolution is its own reward
[Chorus]
It's just the whiff of peace to clear the room
A diplomatic vacuum, a quiet kind of doom
We'll trade a hundred futures on a rumour in the sand
And watch the numbers tumble while the rhetoric expands
The strait stays blocked, the tankers wait
For someone else to twist the gate
[Verse 2]
A golden figure claims the waterway will soon be free
Details kept conveniently behind a vacancy
While closer to the epicentre of the western power
A young man claims divinity in his final hour
He blocked a lane in June to tell the guards his name
A Jesus for the modern age with ruin in his aim
And papers on a desk reveal the pattern and the sign
That tragedy's a process on a deliberate timeline
[Chorus]
It's just the whiff of peace to clear the room
A diplomatic vacuum, a quiet kind of doom
We'll trade a hundred futures on a rumour in the sand
And watch the numbers tumble while the rhetoric expands
The strait stays blocked, the tankers wait
For someone else to twist the gate
[Bridge]
India is cooking at a forty-five degree
Stay inside or wither in the humidity
An elephant in Uganda tramples three into the clay
While Congo counts the bodies that the virus swept away
Nine hundred souls suspected in a line that no one tracks
While medics dodge the bullets and the system cracks
And prisoners in Caracas light their mattresses aflame
To challenge all the shooters and the rules they never name
Yet Botswana sees a couple with a paper and a pen
Asking for the right to be acknowledged as a ten
[Guitar Solo - E-Bow and Prepared Piano]
[Verse 3]
They're fighting for a certificate while everything else bleeds
And if the law's a mirror, well it's shattered into reeds
The mercury is rising and the markets understand
That even holy water couldn't save us from the brand
[Outro]
Just the whiff of peace
Just the whiff of peace
The barrel drops
The barrel drops
Someone else to twist the gate
[Spoken] And we wait.