[Intro – Dissonant strings, percussion mimicking a ticking clock] [Female Voice – bitter] Twelve hundred dollars. That’s your move? One-time cash and call it a groove? You call it “fiscal stimulus,” But it barely covers the bus. [Male Voice – frustrated] You preach about the marginal propensity to consume, Like we’re ratios in some hotel room. AD shifts when we spend a dime? Tell me—do layoffs follow that line? [Both – harmony with edge] We're not your curve to shift or smooth— We're real demand with nothing to lose. Your models dance, our cupboards bare— Multiplier math won’t pay the fare. [Female Voice – sharp] “Spend it quick,” they say, “boost the flow.” But velocity’s dead and prices grow. You want aggregate demand to rise— Well, come live under our shrinking skies. [Male Voice – sardonic] We buy one meal, it boosts the GDP. But next week? It's debt for me. “Temporary transfer,” “fiscal patch”— That’s code for “You’re on your own—good luck, catch!” [Bridge – Rhythmic stabs, call-and-response] [Female Voice – demanding] Do they feel the slope of our lives? [Male Voice – biting] Do they graph our hope or just supply? [Female Voice] Do they budget our tears on a Friday night? [Both – shout-sung] Or just run their models till the data’s right? [Chorus – Build to aggressive harmony] [Both] Multiplier? We're the test case pain— Spending in fear, holding off the rain. One check ripples? Maybe that’s true— But we drown while it trickles through you. Stimulus to sustain the illusion, Budget lines in cold confusion. They optimize, we survive— On marginal choices, barely alive. [Outro – Minimal piano, fading strings] [Both – nearly whispered] One dollar in... Threefold out... But we only ever See the drought.
