This is the ballad
of new Bobby and Joan
Fender guitar-lords
with truth microphones
a daredevil’s mission
to gather us all
to shake us, and wake us
to answer the call
The pressure’s been building
at a pace that is steady
our ship has been drifting
now the people are ready
New Bobby and Joan
are taking the stage
with fine-tuned stringed weapons
and words dipped in rage
Bob nods at the drummer
to get the show started
he counts the band in
to the dark and uncharted
They follow Bob’s lead
tag along for the ride
Joanie plays rhythm off to the side:
“Gather your courage
for a darkness awaits you
take aim at the hate
and the man who berates you
beware of cracked shadows
and words made of hay
of crowned jokers with pokers
who demand that you to pray
The pols and preachers
can’t show you the way
their pockets are lined
by the players that pay”
The crowd gives applause
and they nod in approval
they know what they need
it’s not change, but removal
Bob sets the tone
with a sneer and a growl
stalking the stage
like a tank on the prowl
Joanie steps forward
and smiles at Bobby
she’s not just his muse
and she’s more than a hobby
Bobby sees Joanie step up to the mic
she covers terrain, like a train on a spike
“We’re zip-tied and tongue tied
by Silicon Valley
Kidnapped by agents
who crouch in the alley
we live in a land
that is free of the brave
led by a felon
both cruel and depraved
The dream we living
turns silkweed to ashes
torched by the rich
and the market that crashes
Elon and Donny
are having a spat
while democracy dies
in a GPT chat“
Bobby steps forward
his guitar is smoking
there’s blood on the frets
of the Fender he’s choking
Joanie steps back
away from the light
Bobby’s a star
that eclipses the night
“The system ain’t broken
it works as intended
in the times we’re living
the truth isn’t rendered
when God taints your money
the peril is real
there’s no milk and honey
just poisonous zeal
where the rich just get richer
the poor get to bleed
just to get stitched up
and ground into seed
Joanie steps forward
and together they sing
the sad but true story
of men kissing the ring
“They tip toe through crypto
and heap praise on their king
in the land of bent knees
and the home of the bling
They take jets from Qutar
and cut aid to the poor
plan missions to Mars
and sell weapons for war
I don’t know about you,
but I can’t take anymore
It’s time to take names
and kick down the door
The last chord rings out
the cheers earn them their wage
they turn away from the mic
and they walk off the stage
This is the ballad
of new Bobby and Joan
Fender guitar-lords
with truth microphones
bendingtheneedle 