Playing around with alternate tunings. Add a healthy dose of Dylan. Suffuse it with the emotions of the week. Call it a protest song, if you want, but this is fairly raw and unprocessed.
Ordinarily, I'd like to do several drafts of lyrics and take a little more time, but given the circumstances, I actually took a chance on the idea that my first-instinct animal brain might have something to offer that my more rational brain, with time and opportunity for revisions, might not.
lyrics
Smoke clouds from the city center
Instigations from the inside
The false flags are planted and the
Plants are giving speeches
And the slogans, well, maybe they were all just
Lies to begin with
And the flowers blooming outward
Plumes of dust and indignation
And you have lost the pull of gravity
Beneath your broken feet
And what you thought were only outlines are the
Fully-formed flotillas
Grave armadas fleet and foul
Within your harbors
thought it was just a bad dream
I was wrong
And you raise your hands in disconnected
Drownings of distractions bent on
Folding into factions that are less than
Subtle fashions and before you even know it
You are lost inside the web of your own making
And now you're running through a forest
fixed on voices raised in chorus
Singing melodies all-glorious
Supplicating gods of war
And sparks of harmonies are kindling
With verses that you
Cannot understand
thought it was just a bad dream
this generation
thought it was just a bad dream
but I was wrong
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