"The 1980s Circus Act" [Intro - Spoken Interlude - Sam (female)] (The track opens with a creepy, out-of-tune circus organ playing a wobbly waltz. A heavy, sidechain-pumping 808 kicks in, giving the waltz a dark, bouncing trap rhythm. Spoken smooth, cynical, and theatrical.) Back in the 1980s, the suits in the capital had a brilliant idea. They looked at the budget, looked at the asylums, and said, "Let's just open the doors. The public can figure it out." Fast forward a few decades, and the whole world is running on a funhouse mirror. The clowns are in charge, the safety nets are gone, and the guys who actually know they're crazy are the only ones making any sense. Welcome to the big top. [Verse 1 - Matt (male)] (A gritty acoustic guitar locks in with the heavy trap beat. The hurdy-gurdy whines a comical, chaotic drone. Matt’s voice is rough, laughing darkly, and full of gravel.) I’m sitting on the porch just watching the parade Looking at the mess that the government made They shut down the wards back when I was a kid And tried to put a bandage on the damage they did Now the streets are just flooded with a heavy duty haze Everybody's wandering around inside a maze! I got my own gremlins, I got my own screws, But even I can see that we are bound to lose! You can't take a hurricane, put it in a cup, And expect the whole society to hold the water up! [Pre-Chorus - Matt (male) & Sam (female)] (The creepy circus organ swells up, and the wailing harmonica blows a sarcastic, sliding note.) (Matt - male) The politicians smiled... (Sam - female) ...and they threw away the keys! (Matt - male) Now the whole damn world... (Sam - female) ...is catching the disease! [Chorus - Matt (male) & Sam (female)] (Explosive, heavy-stomping Southern rock-trap drop. The slide guitar with talk box screams a wildly melodic, funhouse riff over a punchy kick drum.) (Matt - male) It’s a 1980s circus act, running in the street! (Sam - female) ...got the whole public tripping over their feet! (Matt - male) The institutions closed and the system fell apart! (Sam - female) ...leaving every citizen to play the heavy part! (Matt - male) Some folks need a sanctuary, some folks need a wall! (Both) But the suits cut the funding and condemned us to the fall! Yeah, I might be crazy, but I’m laughing at the view— 'Cause the folks running the asylum are crazier than you! [Verse 2 - Matt (male)] (The beat drops to a dirty, hydraulic swamp-blues groove. The percussive banjo ticks like a frantic clock.) They traded in the doctors for a sidewalk tent Wondering where the hell the sanity went You got people out here fighting invisible wars Because the men in the suits went and padlocked the doors It’s a structural collapse, it’s a modern decay And the regular civilians are the ones who gotta pay I sit back with my terp pen, shaking my head Watching the circus from the safety of the bed! I know I got a diagnosis, I know I got a file, But at least I have the decency to do it with a smile! [Pre-Chorus - Matt (male) & Sam (female)] (The accordion breathes in and out, creating a dizzy, chaotic tension.) (Matt - male) The budget was slashed... (Sam - female) ...and the heavy doors were locked. (Matt - male) Now the whole damn system... (Sam - female) ...is officially shocked. [Chorus - Matt (male) & Sam (female)] (Maximum volume. Turntable scratches cut through the mix, blending hip-hop swagger with the creepy carnival metal.) (Matt - male) It’s a 1980s circus act, running in the street! (Sam - female) ...got the whole public tripping over their feet! (Matt - male) The institutions closed and the system fell apart! (Sam - female) ...leaving every citizen to play the heavy part! (Matt - male) Some folks need a sanctuary, some folks need a wall! (Both) But the suits cut the funding and condemned us to the fall! Yeah, I might be crazy, but I’m laughing at the view— 'Cause the folks running the asylum are crazier than you! [Bridge - Matt (male)] (The instruments drop completely out except for a single, off-key organ note and the faint sound of a crowd murmuring. Matt speaks directly into the mic, completely serious, dead-calm.) You can't outsource a mental health crisis to a sidewalk. It’s not fair to the public, and it sure as hell ain't fair to the ones who need the help. The real crazy ones are the people who signed the paperwork to let it happen. [Outro - Sam (female) & Matt (male)] (The bouncy, dark-comedy 808 circus beat crashes back in for a final, chaotic ride-out.) (Sam - female - singing smooth and sassy) Welcome to the circus... step right up... (Matt - male - spoken, a low, rumbling chuckle) Get your popcorn ready. (The sound of a carnival barker laughing in the distance. fades away.)
