Poet 
: 4
(Verse 1)
Tail lights bleed on the interstate,
Clock ticks faster, always late.
Work my hands, chase that dollar sign,
But the grind’s got ghosts in the checkout line.
(Chorus)
Oh, this world’s a neon hurricane,
Politicians playin’ shell games.
They’ll sell you lies in a three-piece suit,
While the truth’s buried in a cowboy boot.
Yeah, we’re dancin’ in the debris—
Just tryin’ to breathe, tryin’ to believe.
(Verse 2)
Main Street’s choked with hollow dreams,
Silent screams in the TV screen.
They cut the rope, stole the ladder too,
Leavin’ us here with a broken view.
(Chorus)
Oh, this world’s a neon hurricane,
Power brokers shiftin’ blame.
They’ll tax your hope, spin the wheel of spite,
While the heartland burns in the dead of night.
Yeah, we’re racin’ ’gainst the breeze—
Just tryin’ to bend, but we won’t break knees.
(Bridge)
So light a match in the county dark,
Sing a hymn to the stray dog’s bark.
Ain’t no savior in a golden dome—
We’ll build our kingdom from the cracks in the stone.
(Outro)
Rev the engine, let the gravel fly—
This old dirt road’s still worth the fight.