The Same Dusty Road

The men on the high hill, where the eagle's the seal, Are spinning the numbers to see what is real. A whisper from Powell, a change in the rate, It's a lock on your door, it's a price on your plate. They talk of inflation, a fever to tame, But the face in the mirror looks mostly the same. Down in the valley of silicon gleam, They've woken a voice from a digital dream. A ghost in the wire that learns how you speak,

A promise of power for the strong and the weak. They call it creation, a bright, dawning age, Just another new actor on history's stage. And the wheel keeps on turning, through sun and through rain, The morning headlines tell the story again. A king in a courthouse, a god in a code, Just a new heavy burden for the same dusty road. In a New York courtroom, the air is so thick, With the slow, steady measure of the law's walking stick.

A president past faces the scales and the sword, For a payment, a secret, a long-forgotten word. And the nation is split by the lines that they draw, Arguing passion and parsing the law. And the wheel keeps on turning, through sun and through rain, The morning headlines tell the story again. A king in a courthouse, a god in a code, Just a new heavy burden for the same dusty road. The Florida coast braces, the Texas sky burns,

The patient old planet just watches and learns. We build our small dramas of profit and pride, While the wind and the water have nowhere to hide. We think it's the first time, we think it's the last, But the future's a shadow the present has cast. And the wheel keeps on turning, through sun and through rain, The morning headlines tell the story again. A king in a courthouse, a god in a code, Just a new heavy burden for the same dusty road.