Marble thunder from the highest room,
A gavel cuts through tariff gloom.
A split court says the line was crossed,
Emergency powers, balance lost.
Two of his own broke ranks that day,
He raged at robes, then found a way—
A brand-new levy under older code,
Now importers crowd the legal road.
Sources:
Headlines hit like lightning on a frayed high line,
Sirens in the feedback, truth and power collide.
Turn the volume up, let the drums decide—
We won’t go quiet through the static and the lies.
Hold the line. Hold the line.
Palm trees shiver in a sleepless hour,
A stranger breaches gilded power.
Agents move, the night goes still,
A shotgun’s echo fades against the hill.
He was missing on a desperate run,
Bought his fire on the way to the sun.
The boss was north, not in that glow,
Now the Bureau hunts what drove the blow.
Sources:
Steel on the water, flags in the wake,
Carriers prowl where the red lines shake.
Jets circle tight as the desert sighs,
The largest shadow since old war skies.
A deadline hangs over Geneva’s light,
Tehran vows a decisive bite.
Drills with Moscow thrum the floor,
Europe pulls people back from the door.
Sources:
Headlines hit like lightning on a frayed high line,
Sirens in the feedback, truth and power collide.
Turn the volume up, let the drums decide—
We won’t go quiet through the static and the lies.
Hold the line. Hold the line.
High country hush, Tapalpa pine,
The hunter fell on a faulted line.
El Mencho down, the convoy rolls,
He died halfway to the capital’s tolls.
Westward roads burned black and closed,
Guadalajara ghosted, windows froze.
Flights to the coast went dark in the sky,
Washington nodded: a ruthless kingpin’s tie.
Sources:
At Sandringham gates on a storied day,
A fallen royal led away.
Ties to a darkness, questions blaze,
Alleged misdeeds from envoy days.
Hours of talk, then out on bail,
Emails whisper through a paper trail.
First in modern memory, crown on ice—
The king says law must roll its dice.
And voices long unheard ring through:
No one above it—old or new.
Sources:
Headlines hit like lightning on a frayed high line,
Sirens in the feedback, truth and power collide.
Turn the volume up, let the drums decide—
We won’t go quiet through the static and the lies.
Hold the line. Hold the line.
Another hard mark on a wintered land,
A market shattered, ash in hand.
Clustered steel in eastern air,
Families flee from the front-line glare.
Crowds in distant squares ignite,
Prague and Paris, candlelight.
Zelenskyy honors a mayor’s stand,
While captains ferry sanctioned brand.
Sources:
Gavel crack—jet roar—city lights dim,
Desert wind—neon hymn.
Wires hum, the headlines scream,
We ride the surge, we keep the beam.
Headlines hit like lightning on a frayed high line,
Sirens in the feedback, truth and power collide.
Turn the volume up, let the drums decide—
We won’t go quiet through the static and the lies.
Hold the line, set the sky on fire,
From court to coast, from crown to wire—
We are the chorus, we are the choir,
Turn it up—higher, higher!
