Whilst Don Jr. ties the knot on a Bahamian tax haven fit for a Bond villain, the homeland security apparatus appears to be running a chaotic 'smash and grab' operation on its own policies, alternately deporting people, reading their rights, or simply locking them up for the temerity of protesting. One Senate hopeful decided the most dignified response to facial hair criticism was to recreate a pub closing time in a Detroit liquor store, proving that political maturity is truly dead in the water. It’s a thoroughly modern menagerie of opulent weddings and legal U-turns, proving that for some, the law is merely a suggestion, whilst for others, it’s a weapon found in a jail cell.
🎵 (s)Hit of the Day 🎵
Version 1
Version 2
📜 Lyrics 📜
[Intro]
[Sound of champagne corks popping, distorted into gunfire]
[Distorted twelve-string electric guitar riff begins]
[Verse 1]
Thirty-eight acres of Bahamian sand
A private island for the wedding band
While the Coast Guard erases the colour from its face
And the Justice Department picks at the carcass of grace
They're smashing the vodka bottles in Michigan state
A temper tantrum for a senator's fate
And the debate was a draw, love, honestly true
Just a stroke in the stats for the Red and the Blue
[Pre-Chorus]
[Percussive piano with broken strings]
And the feedback is rising
The signal's deceasing
The posh and the powerful
Are never leaving
[Chorus]
Welcome to the Island of the Blessed
Where the powerful go to take a rest
From the protesters charged as conspirators
And the immigrants fleeing their incarcerators
It's a champagne reception being bulldozed to dust
In the King's English, in the King's trust
[Overdriven bass guitar intensifies]
Welcome to the Island of the Blessed
Where the wicked never rest
[Verse 2]
[Modular synthesizer generating interference patterns]
Ten billion dollars in a reopened court
The I.R.S. playing the wrong sort of sport
And the Department of Homeland is clarifying still
That the Green Card is yours if you've got force of will
But a killer in prison with a blade in his cell
Proves the system is working and working unwell
There's blood on the beaches and sand in the gears
And the cable news anchors are switching gears
[Pre-Chorus]
[Floor toms with chain rattles]
And the static is winning
The picture is tearing
The gilded and governed
Are beyond all caring
[Chorus]
Welcome to the Island of the Blessed
Where the powerful go to take a rest
From the protesters charged as conspirators
And the immigrants fleeing their incarcerators
It's a champagne reception being bulldozed to dust
In the King's English, in the King's trust
Welcome to the Island of the Blessed
Where the wicked never rest
[Bridge]
[Tempo slows, industrial noise builds]
[Spoken]
They rewrite the history before the ink dries
While the judge and the jury avert their eyes
A beard critique leads to broken glass
And the mechanism grinds for the working class
[Scream]
IT'S A CIRCUS OF CRUELTY!
[Distorted twelve-string electric guitar solo, self-destructing into feedback]
[Chorus]
Welcome to the Island of the Blessed
Where the powerful go to take a rest
From the protesters charged as conspirators
And the immigrants fleeing their incarcerators
It's a champagne reception being bulldozed to dust
In the King's English, in the King's trust
Welcome to the Island of the Blessed
Where the wicked never rest
[Outro]
[Fading into amplifier hiss]
Thirty-eight acres...
[Spoken]
And not a soul in sight.
[Sustained note decaying into meltdown]