Cash for Rubble (The Reconstruction Riff)

(Fast, aggressive drumming. Simple, driving bass line. Distorted guitar intro with sharp feedback.) Verse 1 (The Aftermath) (Loud, shouted, staccato vocals) The clock ran down, the search was on, The ghosts of W.M.D.s were gone! We brought our own! A rain of steel! How does an occupied body feel? The city's trashed, the rubble stacked, A million tonnes, there’s no turning back! But it was already crumbling, before the fight, So put on your boots, and see the light! Chorus (The Cynical Hook) (Heavy, full band—pounding chorus rhythm) CASH! FOR RUBBLE! We dropped the bombs, now we clean the trouble! AID! AND DIRT! The new masters, healing the hurt! FEET ON THE GROUND! Yeah, we’re down low! Recycling the hell that we helped sow!   Verse 2 (The Foreign Helpers) Here come the experts, polished and clean, With donor contracts and big machines! U.N.E.P., I.O.M., a whole damn crew, Teaching us things we already knew! We sort the concrete, a dusty haze, Into aggregate for the coming days! The metal scrap? That's our profit line, The war debris is finally mine! (Fast, whispered interjection) "Turning the crime into the prize!" Bridge (The Irony of Recycling) (Tempo slows, a dissonant guitar melody over a steady beat) They crushed the walls, we crush the brick, The same old stones, a cynical trick. That powder fine, that dusty air, Is going back into the market square! A thousand years of history, smashed and mixed, A circular economy, slightly fixed! The bomber’s target becomes the road, That’s a heavy, hypocritical load!   Chorus (The Cynical Hook) (Return to full speed, fierce energy) CASH! FOR RUBBLE! We dropped the bombs, now we clean the trouble! AID! AND DIRT! The new masters, healing the hurt! FEET ON THE GROUND! Yeah, we’re down low! Recycling the hell that we helped sow! Outro (Repeated, frantic shouting over feedback, drums accelerating) Tidy up! Tidy up! The mess we made! Tidy up! Tidy up! The price is paid! RECYCLE THE WAR! RECYCLE THE WAR!