[Intro] Uno, dos, tres— Lights under the White House floor. Uno, dos, tres— Nobody asks what the bunker’s for. [Verse 1] Gold on the ceiling, blood on the tile, The mad king grins with a television smile. Six floors down where the rich men hide, While the whole world burns on the other side. He cuts the ribbon, the cameras bloom, On the Epstein Memorial Ballroom. The band plays bright, but the shadows crawl, And something old is breathing in the wall. [Pre-Chorus] Epstein Fury on the big-screen news, Gaza dust on the dancing shoes. Iran in flames, brass horns scream, Everybody mambo through the war machine. [Chorus] Dance, dance, dance in the Epstein Memorial Ballroom, Cha-cha-cha while the dead stars bloom. Spin, spin, spin while the mad king calls, There’s a bunker underneath us and a crack in the walls. Epstein Fury, feel that beat, Doomsday salsa in the capital heat. Dance, dance, dance till the last bomb falls, In the Epstein Memorial Ballroom. [Verse 2] He forgets the names, but remembers the crown, Yells at the ghosts when the lights go down. The mirror laughs with a mouth of teeth, And the floor keeps moving like a thing beneath. Red-tie monster with a dead-eyed stare, Spray-tan prophet of poisoned air. He says, “When I go, you’re coming too,” And the trumpets choke on the red, white, blue. [Pre-Chorus 2] Epstein Fury, louder now, War paint dripping from the holy cow. Gaza cries through the sub-bass line, But the donors clap and call it divine. [Chorus] Dance, dance, dance in the Epstein Memorial Ballroom, Cha-cha-cha while the dead stars bloom. Spin, spin, spin while the mad king calls, There’s a bunker underneath us and a crack in the walls. Epstein Fury, feel that beat, Doomsday salsa in the capital heat. Dance, dance, dance till the last bomb falls, In the Epstein Memorial Ballroom. [Bridge] Ay, ay, ay— The crown has worms and the crown has eyes. Ay, ay, ay— The flag starts melting in the ultraviolet sky. The king goes dim, but the missiles wake, The floor splits open like a wedding cake. He laughs, “I made it beautiful, didn’t I?” As the moon turns red and the oceans rise. [Final Chorus] Dance, dance, dance in the Epstein Memorial Ballroom, Last little party in the empire’s tomb. Spin, spin, spin while the sirens call, There’s a mad king laughing at the end of it all. Epstein Fury, burn that beat, World War Three with a Latin heat. Dance, dance, dance till the whole world falls, In the Epstein Memorial Ballroom. [Outro] Uno, dos, tres— Lights under the White House floor. Uno, dos, tres— Nobody leaves anymore.
