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Chokepoints and Backroads
World News

Chokepoints and Backroads

8:00
March 6, 2026
Chokepoints and Backroads
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Lyrics & Sources

Chokepoints and Backroads

Verse 1 (Strait of Hormuz)

Out where the narrow waters pinch the map to a thread, Warning lights on the shoreline, keep your anchors where you’re spread. The Guard says the gate is theirs, no passage through the blue, Tankers wait with engines idling, wondering what to do. Crude climbs like a fever, the air tastes like a spark, The Navy says it might ride shotgun, but can’t promise when or where to start. And far away in Doha, gas plants hush their roar, After fire in the skies, a cold wind chills the world’s front door.

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Chorus

Hold on, the world is turning through the smoke and static sound, Sea-lanes stall, screens go black, markets shake the ground. Hold on, we are more than wires, more than flags unfurled, Carry one another home through a breaking world.


Verse 2 (Evacuations)

Airports glow at midnight, faces lit by broken sleep, A rush of homebound heartbeats moving over desert deep. First quiet charters rose midweek on carefully drawn lines, More seats promised, more names called, through re-routed skies. Some find space on crowded flights from towers trimmed in gold, Others wait with crumpled tickets, stories trembling, told. Airways bend around the storm, a tangle in the air, A chorus made of boarding calls and whispered traveler prayers.

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Chorus

Hold on, the world is turning through the smoke and static sound, Sea-lanes stall, screens go black, markets shake the ground. Hold on, we are more than wires, more than flags unfurled, Carry one another home through a breaking world.


Verse 3 (War powers vote)

Marble halls and late-night talk, a measure made to bind, Fell short by a single crossing, one voice changed its mind. The House will take its turn in time, the drums refuse to slow, The war chief vows “without mercy,” says the strikes will flow. Names go up on silent walls, a drone sings over brine, A port far from the headlines bears the weight of another line. And somewhere in the chamber’s hush, a gavel taps the air, The distance between orders and the boots that take them there.

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Chorus

Hold on, the world is turning through the smoke and static sound, Sea-lanes stall, screens go black, markets shake the ground. Hold on, we are more than wires, more than flags unfurled, Carry one another home through a breaking world.


Verse 4 (Cuba blackout)

Havana candles flicker, western nights go long, A boiler splits, a fire blooms, the grid forgets its song. Engines starved of diesel sleep, turbines cough and fade, When oil runs thin and cables fail, the dark makes every shade. They say it may be days and days before the hum returns, Old lines sag with borrowed time, and rationed fuel still burns. Airfields warn of empty tanks where jet wings used to fly, Pressure from a distant shore dries rain out of the sky.

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Chorus

Hold on, the world is turning through the smoke and static sound, Sea-lanes stall, screens go black, markets shake the ground. Hold on, we are more than wires, more than flags unfurled, Carry one another home through a breaking world.


Verse 5 (Cloud strikes)

The cloud was never weightless; it lives in bricks and steel, In halls that hum in Bahrain dawn, in Gulf-state glass and wheels. Drones cut low and sudden, code goes dark on silent racks, A company that rents the sky feels fire at its back. They say it’s for the allies served, the circuits shared in kind, Screens refresh to warning lights, whole regions left behind. The dashboard turns to amber, admins pace the floor, When servers sleep like fallen trees, who holds the open door?

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Chorus

Hold on, the world is turning through the smoke and static sound, Sea-lanes stall, screens go black, markets shake the ground. Hold on, we are more than wires, more than flags unfurled, Carry one another home through a breaking world.


Verse 6 (Markets and oil)

Tickers bleed in daylight, blue chips lose their glow, The tech crowd holds its breath while the oil fires grow. Jet fuel makes the runways hot, the carriers wear the bruise, Downgraded wings fold quietly, learning harder news. The Oracle of the heartland buys a little of himself, A signal in the chaos from a deep and steady shelf. But every bell that ends the day still echoes like a plea: Storms that start in narrow straits roll through you and me.

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Final Chorus and Ending

Hold on, the world is turning through the smoke and static sound, Sea-lanes stall, screens go black, markets shake the ground. Hold on, we are more than wires, more than flags unfurled, Carry one another home through a breaking world. So light the lamps and start the engines, raise the mast and mend the wire, Guide the tankers past the headlands, lift the grounded clouds up higher. Call the names, unlock the gateways, feed the grids until they sing— From chokepoints to backroads, we will make the night take wing.

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