Verse 1 When the newsrooms go silent and the gavel hits the floor, Three voices cut the static, kicking down the door. Joy Reid lights the candles in the churches of the night, Roland Martin brings the choir, and Don Lemon leads the fight. Chorus They’re preaching on the airwaves like a Sunday gospel choir, Telling stories of Ms. T’s long march for justice in the fire, Of Nicole’s stand for dignity against unwarranted surveillance, Of quorum-breakers fighting gerrymanders, turning pain to perseverance. Verse 2 Roland’s laughter’s like a horn line, Joy’s questions cut like steel, Don Lemon calls it plain: we’ve been here, and this is real. They call out racist policies without hating on a soul; They lift up those who dare to fight and help make the broken whole. Bridge So share these songs and stories, let the music go viral and wide; Turn up the jazz-gospel undertones, let freedom be our guide. Country twang and organ chords can carry truths long overdue – When the people hear the names, they’ll see themselves in you.
