Personal

(Verse 1)
Come gather ’round the ticker tape and see the latest news
Of tankers in the Gulf of Oman shaking in their shoes
The Strait is getting narrow and the prices getting high
While the black smoke from a burning hull is staining up the sky
And the IEA is warning of a dry and thirsty land
As the oil leaks from the wreckage and it settles in the sand.

(Chorus)
And it’s “Steady as she goes, boys,” but the escorts won’t be seen
The U.S. Navy’s busy hunting drones and the machine
While the diplomats are talking, the sailors pay the price
And the world is held for ransom in a game of loaded dice.

(Verse 2)
From the docks of dusty Dubai to the shores of old Iraq
The container ships are burning with a target on their back
The Houthis in the Red Sea say they’ll shut the southern gate
While Fars News tells the story of a dark and looming fate
And the people in the counting house are watching futures climb
Past a hundred-dollar milestone for the second or third time.

(Verse 3)
The Pentagon is silent on the tankers’ urgent plea
“We cannot guard your cargo on a red and rising sea”
“We’re focused on the missiles and the launchpads in the dunes”
While the sirens in Bahrain are playing military tunes
And the U.N. counts the millions who are fleeing from their home
Displaced within the borders where the hungry spirits roam.

(Verse 4)
So they open up the stockpiles, let the emergency flow
To keep the wheels a-turning and the furnace fires aglow
But an airstrike in the northland brings a rain of rockets down
And the fire of the border war is spreading through the town
Oh, the headlines are a-bleeding with the ink of modern war
And I wonder if we’ve seen this tragic comedy before.

(Chorus)
And it’s “Steady as she goes, boys,” but the escorts won’t be seen
The U.S. Navy’s busy hunting drones and the machine
While the diplomats are talking, the sailors pay the price
And the world is held for ransom in a game of loaded dice.

(Verse 1)
In the city of the bold, where the secrets are all sold
And the monuments are polished to a shine
There’s a pipe beneath the grass, where the legislative gas
Meets a literal mountain of the… well, never mind.
The Pentagon is high-tech, and the White House is a gem
But they’re all connected by a single, rusty stem.
One little crack in the “Interceptor” line,
And the “Leader of the Free World” is smelling like a pine…
(Wait, no, that’s not pine).

(Chorus)
Oh, we’re three leaks away from a national crisis!
Forget the cyber-war or the soaring oil prices.
D.C. Water’s got a plan, but the funding’s gone “poof”
While the sewage starts a-knocking on the Capitol roof!
The backup supply gives us twenty-four hours
To wash off the egos and the thirst for power.
If you want to stop the gears of the great DMV,
You don’t need a nuke—just a bit of debris!

(Verse 2)
FEMA says they’re “committed” to “resilience and grace”
While they cancel the grants with a smile on their face.
“It’s wasteful!” they cry, “To keep the water from the street!”
As the wastewater bubbles ‘round the lobbyists’ feet.
The Mayor points to Water, and Water points to Fed
While a billion-dollar disaster hangs over our head.
The Potomac’s a-waiting for one more collapse,
To turn the West Wing into a giant mud bath!

(Bridge)
Six billion dollars lost in a month,
But hey, look at the bright side:
Congress can’t bicker if they’re swimming in…
Ahem… environmental tragedy.
The National Guard is out on the block
But they can’t fix a pipe with a rifle and a lock.

(Outro)
So raise up your glass! (Wait, don’t drink that yet).
It’s the closest to “transparency” we’re ever gonna get.
Just a slow, steady drip in the dark of the night…
Does anybody have a wrench?
No?
Goodnight, D.C.!