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Wires Down, Waters Closed, Hearts Open

5:25

18. März 2026

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Wires Down, Waters Closed, Hearts Open

Verse 1

Before dawn over Tehran and Shiraz and Tabriz, the sky was a drum and the ground learned to freeze. A council’s keeper fell, a Basij chief too, state voices confirmed what the fire already knew. A minister vowed to hunt shadows till none remain, and a country’s guard woke to a brand-new stain.

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Chorus

Wires down, waters closed, borders running red, leaders trade thunder while the innocent tread. But I still hear a chorus that refuses to drown: open the lanes, light the rooms, lay the weapons down.

Verse 2

Across the blue-lit border, armored columns rolled, in the southern hills of Lebanon, the air turned cold. Hezbollah struck back where the fences fray, and families became rivers trying to get away. A village heard orders to empty and hide, while far-off capitals begged, let the fire subside.

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Chorus

Wires down, waters closed, borders running red, leaders trade thunder while the innocent tread. But I still hear a chorus that refuses to drown: open the lanes, light the rooms, lay the weapons down.

Verse 3

On an island of music, every light went black, with oil turned to memory and the grid off track. Hospitals dimmed, the scalpel had to wait, and hunger tapped fingers at the palace gate. From a gilded office came talk of taking the shore, while Havana said we’re talking, we’ll open a door.

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Chorus

Wires down, waters closed, borders running red, leaders trade thunder while the innocent tread. But I still hear a chorus that refuses to drown: open the lanes, light the rooms, lay the weapons down.

Verse 4

In Washington’s quiet, a badge hit the desk, a watcher of threats said this war felt grotesque. No looming danger, just pressure and spin, promises to end wars blown out on the wind. He was called weak while the chamber split, and the chair he left empty faced a fuse still lit.

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Chorus

Wires down, waters closed, borders running red, leaders trade thunder while the innocent tread. But I still hear a chorus that refuses to drown: open the lanes, light the rooms, lay the weapons down.

Verse 5

At the world’s narrow doorway, Iran shut the gate to certain flags and hulls told to wait. An ocean of tankers like cattle in a pen, as the vault of reserves cracked open again. Allies said no to a call from across the sea, Paris answered never, not like this, not with me. Prices climbed ladders, the pantry felt the strain, the food ships choked on the fertilizer chain, yet friends were waved through by a careful hand, Turkey and India threading the sand.

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Chorus

Wires down, waters closed, borders running red, leaders trade thunder while the innocent tread. But I still hear a chorus that refuses to drown: open the lanes, light the rooms, lay the weapons down.

Verse 6

On the middle sea’s back, the year began in grief, bodies turned to rumors, truth cut reef to reef. The ledger grew blank where the waves run wild, storms tore the seams and silence compiled. With coffers clipped and lifelines tied, the coast guards stopped telling how the rescued cried, and families kept vigil on salt-stung stones, counting the missing by the ache in their bones.

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Bridge

Raise your voice like sirens on a harbor wall, pound on the blackout door till the hinges fall. Steer the waiting freighters through the guarded foam, name the ones the water tried to leave unknown.

Final Chorus

Wires up, waters open, borders healing slow, hands across the fault lines pulling light from below. I still hear that chorus, louder than the guns: open the lanes, light the rooms—let the living run.

Outro

Let the breakers take the war drums down, let the night unclench and the lost be found. When the current shifts and the truth comes home, we’ll tune our shattered world and sing it whole.

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