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Borders on Fire, Voices on the Wind
World News

Borders on Fire, Voices on the Wind

6:07
6. Januar 2026
Borders on Fire, Voices on the Wind
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Borders on Fire, Voices on the Wind

Verse 1 — Venezuela

Night fell near the capital, engines cut the dark in two, Barracks shook, the wires sparked, the runway knew its cue. A leader flown to colder halls, he swears he did no wrong, A voice in Washington says “we’re in charge,” eyes set on oil all along. Streets count the missing, Havana folds its flags and prays, An ally takes the oath at dawn, the drillmen set their gaze.

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Chorus

Raise your hands, light the night, let the sirens drown, We are not your oilfield, not your captured crown. From desert wind to arctic sun, hear the same refrain: People are the borderlines no map can claim.

Verse 2 — Protests worldwide

Across the bridges, boots and bells, the handmade signs all sway, From Ankara to Havana, London rain to bayou gray. Outside a Brooklyn fortress wall, the chants refuse to bend, The UN calls it dangerous, a line we shouldn’t rend.

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Chorus

Raise your hands, light the night, let the sirens drown, We are not your oilfield, not your captured crown. From desert wind to arctic sun, hear the same refrain: People are the borderlines no map can claim.

Verse 3 — Threats to Colombia, Cuba, Mexico

He points the compass further south, throws thunder at the door, Says factories of poison bloom, that war could mean “restore.” Mexico is warned to move, Cuba “set to fall,” But Petro vows to stand his ground, and neighbors answer, all.

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Chorus

Raise your hands, light the night, let the sirens drown, We are not your oilfield, not your captured crown. From desert wind to arctic sun, hear the same refrain: People are the borderlines no map can claim.

Verse 4 — Greenland

Now eyes drift north to ice and stone, “we need it,” comes the claim, A photo paints an island draped in someone else’s name. Denmark pounds the table hard, Greenland says “enough,” Allies whisper crisis talk, that frozen peace feels rough.

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Chorus

Raise your hands, light the night, let the sirens drown, We are not your oilfield, not your captured crown. From desert wind to arctic sun, hear the same refrain: People are the borderlines no map can claim.

Verse 5 — Iran

In markets where the money breaks, the breadline turns to flame, The chants climb past the hunger now and call the ruler’s name. The prisons swell, the tally climbs, the night is full of knocks, The throne says “put them in their place,” escape plans fill the talk. Across the sea a warning comes, “be ready to be hit,” “Rescue” rides on heavy wings, the fuse already lit.

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Chorus

Raise your hands, light the night, let the sirens drown, We are not your oilfield, not your captured crown. From desert wind to arctic sun, hear the same refrain: People are the borderlines no map can claim.

Verse 6 — Nigeria

Motorcycles tear the dust, the market’s flyers glow, Homes and harvest set alight, the shadows come and go. A village counts its broken heart, others pulled away, Since Christmas thunder split the north, the hungry dread the day. The fields are bare, the tables thin, a rumor haunts the land— How long until the guns go mute and mothers unclench hands?

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Final Chorus and Ending

Raise your hands, light the night, let the sirens drown, We are not your oilfield, not your captured crown. From desert wind to arctic sun, hear the same refrain: People are the borderlines no map can claim. Strike the drums like city rails, make the windows sing, From Nuuk to northern highways, from Bogotá’s ring, From Tehran’s bold avenues to markets under rain— Let the chorus shake the towers: Not in our name, not again.

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