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Streets, Straits, and Shattered Lines

4:58

February 1, 2026

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Lyrics & Sources

Streets, Straits, and Shattered Lines

Verse 1

In Minneapolis the streets are a drumline again, Names on the wind: Renee Good, Alex Pretti, say them. Operation Metro Surge, they shout it down by name, Call for a stay-home storm, a countrywide refrain. A general strike like none in living memory’s eyes, From L.A. to the Bay, New York, Boston skies, Hands raised, some wrists in cuffs when the shields hit the light— Crowd sings, “No more,” through another restless night.

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Verse 2

Spotlights and velvet ropes, then sirens cut the scene, In Los Angeles they moved on Don Lemon between The show and the street—charged for a churchyard line, Cities Church in St. Paul where worship met sign. They say conspiracy against the right to pray, He says, “I won’t be silenced,” come what may. Press freedom rings as the cameras shout, Pam Bondi says it’s faith they’re guarding now.

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Chorus

Turn up the truth till the needles are red, We’re living on the edge of what was left unsaid. From streets to power, from borders to war, Hold the line, hold the line, turn it up more. If the gates shut tight and the night won’t end, We’ll be the feedback that will not bend.

Verse 3

In the Strait of Hormuz, fire drills trace the foam, IRGC ghosts stalk a narrow salt home. The USS Abraham Lincoln haunts the glare, An armada bristles while warnings tear the air. U.S. Central Command says no reckless wave, Back home in Iran, too many untimely graves. Neighbors grind diplomats to cool the fuse, Turkey, Egypt, Riyadh—no one wants to lose.

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Verse 4

Back in D.C., the lights flicker in the maze, Defense and State count the empty days. Treasury quiet, health halls slow, The Senate signs a map, but the House won’t show. The White House and Dems sketch a longer road, Homeland on a short leash while talks overload. Jeffries says no fast lane for the bill they wrote— Shutdown grinding like a last note held in throats.

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Chorus

Verse 5

A call crosses oceans, a pause over Kyiv’s dome, Putin nods to a personal ask from Trump’s phone. “Make room for talks,” while winter bites the wire, Energy grids scarred, the city’s breath is fire. Zelensky says welcome, but no pact is signed, No direct line between the barrels and minds. It’s brief and it’s brittle, and the cold still climbs— Even the clocks can’t agree on the times.

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Verse 6

In Pretoria an envoy’s told to pack and fly, Persona non grata for insults online. Unannounced visits stoke a sovereign flame, Jerusalem mirrors back the very same. Old wounds reopened at the world court gate, A genocide claim haunts a frayed estate. Washington watches, pulse in its ear, Another crack in the chandelier.

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Final Chorus

Outro

Strike the match, light the wires, let the thunder climb, From protest boots to carrier brine, From shuttered doors to frozen skies— We are the roar no night denies. Drop the hammer, raise the cry, This is the chord that will not die.

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