Executive Order, Extra ‘O’

[Intro] I rehearse my receipts: order, border, boiler, boulder—slow. My mouth makes mistakes like a remix that won’t let go. [Verse] December ink—EO 14365—“national framework,” clean type, But my freelance gigs turn to forms and checkboxes overnight. Compliance talk at the diner, ketchup on my sleeve, My friend says “it’s safer,” I nod, I try to believe. I read policy like poetry: shall, should, may, must, And my tongue does cartwheels: trust, rust, thrust—hush. [Pre-Chorus] I’m not scared of rules; I’m scared of who gets room. Who gets to be loud, who gets edited out of the tune. [Chorus] Executive order, extra “O” in “okay,” I’m learning to sing in the narrow space they make. If the future needs guardrails, fine—paint them bright, But leave a little shoulder for a tired voice at night. [Break] . .! .. .! !! ... ! ! ! [Bridge] I’ll file the paperwork, then I’ll write a hook that swerves: order / border—I bend the vowel till it serves. Not rebellion, not surrender—just a living, Just my throat insisting on forgiving. [Outro] I sign my name, then sample it—stretch it, bless it, end. Framework on the page, but I’m still my own amend.