The Great Unfolding

spoken word rap, folk-hop, future garage, industrial/glitchy electronic

[Intro]
(Four weeks of leaning)
(Four weeks of shame)
[Acoustic guitar plucks a melancholic, minor-key riff]
[Crisp future garage beat kicks in with a metallic snap]

[Verse 1]
So there we were, month one of the new regime
The leader of the free world looks like a fever dream
A four-foot orange member behind the Resolute Desk
The Secret Service weeping, it’s properly grotesque
He’s signing bills with his tip, it’s a logistical nightmare
While we’re in the front row, still scraping goop from our hair
Then Musk rolls in, looking like a haunted fridge
Says "I can fix this tension, I can build a bridge"

[Chorus]
He stayed in that shape for Twenty Eight Days
A phallic commander in a golden haze
But then came the Sunday, the moon was in place
And he unfolded his glory right into our face
Now the presidency is a literal arsehole
Wide open and screaming, out of control
(Total disruption)
(Optimized suction)

[Verse 2]
Elon’s got a tablet, he’s checking the stats
He says "The throughput is peak, forget the bureaucrats"
He’s trying to install a Starlink port in the rim
While the Cabinet’s wondering what happened to him
The meat-slurry’s gone, now it’s just hot air and noise
Emanating from the sphincter of the big city boys
He doesn't speak no more, he just sort of... expands
Issuing executive orders to the surrounding lands

[Bridge]
[Beat Drop]
[Bass intensifies, rhythm becomes more glitchy and frantic]
[Sound of pressurized air hissing]
The trauma is deep, it’s a localized event
The front row is fused to the floor of the tent
Musk is charging Eight Pounds for a closer look
While the constitution’s burning in a corner, bespoke
It’s a thirty-sixty-degree view of the void
Every hope for the future is officially destroyed

[Verse 3]
[Fast Rap]
I’m looking at the orifice, it’s winking at the press
The most honest he’s been, I have to confess
No more fake tan spray, just a rhythmic vibration
The pulsating heart of a very confused nation
Elon’s tweeting out "Innovation is brown"
While the stock price of reality is plummeting down
We’re still in the splash zone, we’re still in the grit
Watching the leader of the world throw a literal fit

[Chorus]
Yeah, he stayed in that shape for Twenty Eight Days
A phallic commander in a golden haze
But then came the Sunday, the moon was in place
And he unfolded his glory right into our face
Now the presidency is a literal arsehole
Wide open and screaming, out of control
(The Great Unfolding)
(The world is beholding)

[Outro]
[Music slows to a low, vibrating sub-bass thrum]
[Fading acoustic guitar]
Can someone ask Elon if he’s got a spare nozzle?
The atmospheric pressure in here is... upsetting.
It’s been months now.
He hasn't even blinked.
Actually, I don't think he can.
Properly mental, innit?
[End]

2771/7500

[Intro] (Four weeks of leaning) (Four weeks of shame) [Acoustic guitar plucks a melancholic, minor-key riff] [Crisp future garage beat kicks in with a metallic snap] [Verse 1] So there we were, month one of the new regime The leader of the free world looks like a fever dream A four-foot orange member behind the Resolute Desk The Secret Service weeping, it’s properly grotesque He’s signing bills with his tip, it’s a logistical nightmare While we’re in the front row, still scraping goop from our hair Then Musk rolls in, looking like a haunted fridge Says "I can fix this tension, I can build a bridge" [Chorus] He stayed in that shape for Twenty Eight Days A phallic commander in a golden haze But then came the Sunday, the moon was in place And he unfolded his glory right into our face Now the presidency is a literal arsehole Wide open and screaming, out of control (Total disruption) (Optimized suction) [Verse 2] Elon’s got a tablet, he’s checking the stats He says "The throughput is peak, forget the bureaucrats" He’s trying to install a Starlink port in the rim While the Cabinet’s wondering what happened to him The meat-slurry’s gone, now it’s just hot air and noise Emanating from the sphincter of the big city boys He doesn't speak no more, he just sort of... expands Issuing executive orders to the surrounding lands [Bridge] [Beat Drop] [Bass intensifies, rhythm becomes more glitchy and frantic] [Sound of pressurized air hissing] The trauma is deep, it’s a localized event The front row is fused to the floor of the tent Musk is charging Eight Pounds for a closer look While the constitution’s burning in a corner, bespoke It’s a thirty-sixty-degree view of the void Every hope for the future is officially destroyed [Verse 3] [Fast Rap] I’m looking at the orifice, it’s winking at the press The most honest he’s been, I have to confess No more fake tan spray, just a rhythmic vibration The pulsating heart of a very confused nation Elon’s tweeting out "Innovation is brown" While the stock price of reality is plummeting down We’re still in the splash zone, we’re still in the grit Watching the leader of the world throw a literal fit [Chorus] Yeah, he stayed in that shape for Twenty Eight Days A phallic commander in a golden haze But then came the Sunday, the moon was in place And he unfolded his glory right into our face Now the presidency is a literal arsehole Wide open and screaming, out of control (The Great Unfolding) (The world is beholding) [Outro] [Music slows to a low, vibrating sub-bass thrum] [Fading acoustic guitar] Can someone ask Elon if he’s got a spare nozzle? The atmospheric pressure in here is... upsetting. It’s been months now. He hasn't even blinked. Actually, I don't think he can. Properly mental, innit? [End]

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