The Storyteller's Song Again

The sun comes up, the coffee's hot, the screen begins to glow Another headline from the Fed, a whisper soft and low Jerome Powell speaks of numbers, of a quarter point and change While a family counts their dollars on a new and shifting range The price of gas is stubborn, and the price of bread is steep And the promises of politicians are getting hard to keep. Oh, the wires hum a new report, the tickers flash and gleam But it's just another chapter of the old American dream

Full of hope and full of worry, full of dust and rain Just a travelling storyteller singing this old song again. In Washington, the men in suits, they gather in the halls To talk about the thinking box that lives inside the walls A ghost that's born of silicon, a mind of light and code They're drawing lines and writing laws to lighten up the load Or chain the beast before it grows, they haven't yet agreed Just another seed of progress, or a strange and foreign weed.

Oh, the wires hum a new report, the tickers flash and gleam But it's just another chapter of the old American dream Full of hope and full of worry, full of dust and rain Just a travelling storyteller singing this old song again. From California's golden hills, a smoky haze takes flight And paints the sky in shades of orange, stealing morning's light The world gets hot, the storms get strong, the rivers start to rise And the oldest news is written there, right before our eyes.

Oh, the wires hum a new report, the tickers flash and gleam But it's just another chapter of the old American dream Full of hope and full of worry, full of dust and rain Just a travelling storyteller singing this old song again.