The Shutdown Round PT1

This know also, that in the last days perilous times shall come. For men shall be lovers of their own selves, covetous, boasters, proud, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, unholy, without natural affection, trucebreakers, false accusers, incontinent, fierce, despisers of those that are good, traitors, heady, highminded, lovers of pleasures more than lovers of God;

THESE ARE THE LAST DAYS.......

Clock hands frozen, Capitol's a ghost town

Paychecks vanish, families toast now

Empty fridge, hunger pangs echo loud

Imports stalled, tariffs stack a shroud

Taxes climb, wallets thin, veins dry

Officials in suits just blink and sigh

Kids asking "why?", mouths to feed

Government's stuck, greed plants the seed

It's the Shutdown Round, where the food runs out

Where the cries get drowned, and the debts compound

It’s the Shutdown Round, ain’t no checks inbound

Tell me who holds ground when the system’s down

Factories halt, export dreams implode

Farmers pray for rain, but tariffs erode

Mamas ration rice, stretch the bread thin

Daddies on the grind, but the odds don’t bend

Public cries, headlines sell the fear

Promised solutions disappear each year

Leaders sit high, dining on roast

While the working-class folks scrape burnt toast

Shutdown, shutdown, spinning in a loop

Families in the trenches, eating hope as soup

Clock hands frozen, Capitol's a ghost town

Paychecks vanish, families toast now

Empty fridge, hunger pangs echo loud

Imports stalled, tariffs stack a shroud

Taxes climb, wallets thin, veins dry

Officials in suits just blink and sigh

Kids asking "why?", mouths to feed

Government's stuck, greed plants the seed

It's the Shutdown Round, where the food runs out

Where the cries get drowned, and the debts compound

It’s the Shutdown Round, ain’t no checks inbound

Tell me who holds ground when the system’s down

Factories halt, export dreams implode

Farmers pray for rain, but tariffs erode

Mamas ration rice, stretch the bread thin

Daddies on the grind, but the odds don’t bend

Public cries, headlines sell the fear

Promised solutions disappear each year

Leaders sit high, dining on roast

While the working-class folks scrape burnt toast

Shutdown, shutdown, spinning in a loop

Families in the trenches, eating hope as soup

THESE ARE THE LAST DAYS.....