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Straits and Fault Lines

6:10

March 22, 2026

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Lyrics & Sources

Straits and Fault Lines

Verse 1

A late-night message drew a ticking clock over a narrow sea, Open the passage or power grids burn, starting with the king of them all. Yesterday he hummed of winding down; tonight he pounds the wall. Tehran answers: touch our lights and yours will dim from shore to shore. Jets carved the coast, buried missiles torn from hidden floors. A ring of nations pleads: let the ships pass, end the raids on trade.

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Chorus

Straits and fault lines, we balance on the seam, Headlines like sirens, tugging at the beam. Hold fast, hold kind, keep the lights and truth aligned, Until the storm breaks, and the better days find time.

Verse 2

Long-arc fire found an island post in the far blue, London bristled. Baghdad’s backroom base took fresh blows, the embassy’s shadow rattled. Gulf skies sowed with drones and rockets; neighbors swept them down. A refinery in Kuwait tasted sparks; tankers whisper and frown. The map of risk glows crimson from the Gulf to Hormuz to Oman, The Boxer steams east though talk once said stand down. In the markets, a quiet vow: the pinch at the pump may linger on.

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Verse 3

An old G-man laid his badge; the tremor in his hands now still. He steered the Bureau after towers fell, then chased a foreign chill. His thick report traced meddling threads, indictments marked the page, He stopped at a line the rulebook drew, restraint upon the stage. Presidents tipped their hats in thanks; a rival mocked his name, A post so cold the country gasped, yet folded up the pain.

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Chorus

Verse 4

The choke point tightens; cargo of the world stalls mid-tide. Watchers warn this is the heaviest shock we’ve seen in our time. Barrels climb past the line we once thought high; shelves feel the climb. Valves turn down; a gas giant pleads force majeure. Drones scarred its coastal maze; exports fade to a blur. Sanctions loosened on ships already loaded, another door ajar, Tehran shrugs: the tanks at sea are bare, a paper star. Slow your wheels, share a ride, dim the glare; the markets stagger.

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Chorus

Verse 5

At home the lines at airports snake, blue shirts work for love, not pay. Call-ins rise, some badges left; small fields may fade away. A vow to bring in ICE at gates sends shivers through the day. Under the dome, a grief-born ask to change the way we police, Clashing with an all-or-nothing drum; they talk but grant no peace. A leader says there’s room to deal; each bill sinks on release.

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Verse 6

Out west a jury weighed a feed of boasts and sudden doubt, Said the deal was paused, said the crowd was ghosts—turned out Those posts misled the sellers while the buyout spun around. A mountain of damages looms, yet no grand scheme was found. They call it history’s loudest warning; he vows another round, And watchdogs circle one more case of secrets never spelled.

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Final Chorus and Coda

Straits and fault lines, we balance on the seam, Runways and sea lanes, courts and screens in the stream. Turn down the fury, turn up the light we share; If we keep each other, we can get there. Let the strait swing open, let the guards get paid, Let prices fall like summer rain on a thirsty plain. May the gavel ring for honesty, the island guns fall quiet, And a million small mercies, lane by lane, outshine the riot.

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