TITLE: Bullshit Détente STYLE OF MUSIC: swinging 60s spy caper theme, big band brass, uptempo swing groove, sassy playful female vocal, finger snaps, walking bass, cheeky and theatrical, splashy drum fills, showstopping ending LYRICS: [Intro] [three big brass stabs, title sung one word per note, with a wink] BULL... SHIT... DÉ-TENTE... [swing groove kicks in, finger snaps] [Verse 1] [playful, nostalgic] We were sweethearts in the nineties, when I opened every door, Swore that trade would be the ring we'd come to share — Called you my responsible stakeholder, thought you'd ask for more, That a seat inside the club would get us there... [Verse 2] [faster, sparring] Then we spent the decade brawling — I cut your chips, you cut my ore, Trump, then Biden, Trump again — oh, what a ride! We traded tariffs, magnets, blacklists, kept a bloody running score — Now we're too damn tired to swing... so step inside... [Chorus] [full brass, sassy] It's a bullshit détente, comrade — Candlelight dinner with the knives still drawn! Half still engaged, and half at war — And a truce like this is gone by dawn! (Gone by dawn!) [Bridge] [stripped to walking bass and snaps, mock-dramatic] You want the wine from ninety-nine with the tariffs left in place, An old sweet nothing whispered through a brand-new arms race — [building, drum fills] But you can't kiss and sanction, darling, you can't court me and blockade — So blow the candles out, comrade... this is the shortest truce I ever made! [Verse 3] [tender, then swinging, carpe diem] But don't snuff the candles yet, comrade — let the saxophone play, We both know the magnets and the missiles come at dawn — So dance me under the tariffs, love, while the wax still burns away — 'Cause a fake peace is still a peace... until it's gone! [Final Chorus] [key change, everything at once, showstopping] It's a bullshit détente, comrade — Candlelight dinner with the knives still drawn! Half still engaged, and half at war — [huge held note] And a truce like thiiiis... is gone... by dawn! [Outro] [big band crash, then one cheeky muted trumpet, spoken with a wink] BULL... SHIT...
