The Teller's Morning Tune

In a tower of glass on a concrete isle A former king has stood his trial Thirty-four counts the foreman read For secrets kept and words unsaid The jury sat with faces grim A chapter closed, a future dim Down in Manhattan, the gavels fell Another story the ages will tell The newsman's ink has long run dry The screen it glows and feeds the eye But it's the same old tale of pride and fall The same old echo, answering the call

The wheel it turns, the seasons bend No true beginning and no real end A different gold rush in the air For chips of silicon beyond compare Three trillion dollars for a single name That fuels the code and plays the game Nvidia's star, a burning sun A race for knowledge has begun They're building minds in metal frames And whispering digital, magic names The newsman's ink has long run dry The screen it glows and feeds the eye

But it's the same old tale of pride and fall The same old echo, answering the call The wheel it turns, the seasons bend No true beginning and no real end On hardwood courts, a rookie's grace Draws every eye to that contested space Caitlin arrives, a lightning strike But veterans guard the lonely pike A welcome hard, a lesson learned For every dollar she has earned The game is rough, the game is old A hero's journey to unfold

Meanwhile the sky is turning strange Across the midwest, the winds arrange A funnel cloud, a mournful sound That tears the rooftops from the ground The southern sun, a heavy hand Beats down upon a thirsty land Old Mother Earth just sighs and waits And rattles at our garden gates The newsman's ink has long run dry The screen it glows and feeds the eye But it's the same old tale of pride and fall The same old echo, answering the call

The wheel it turns, the seasons bend No true beginning and no real end