The Teller's Morning Tune

On Columbia's green, the tents have been sown For a war far away, an anger homegrown The banners are painted, the voices are loud A familiar refrain from a youthful crowd The police came at dawn with shields and with might To clear out the shadows and bring in the light But the story just echoes, a question so old Of who gets to speak and whose truth can be told. Oh, the ink's barely dry on the morning report A new cast of players in the very same sport I've sung of these troubles in kingdoms and towns The rise of the righteous, the fall of the crowns

It's the same old story, told a different way The wheel keeps on turning, come what may. The ballot is calling for two men you know A rematch was written a long time ago One in the White House, one on the stand Fighting for purchase on this divided land The country is split right down the main street Arguing history that's bound to repeat They trade their sharp words like arrows in flight While the rest of us watch in the pale morning light. Oh, the ink's barely dry on the morning report A new cast of players in the very same sport

I've sung of these troubles in kingdoms and towns The rise of the righteous, the fall of the crowns It's the same old story, told a different way The wheel keeps on turning, come what may. In a courtroom in York, the money is named A star and a lawyer, a story proclaimed While Powell at the Fed holds the interest rate high And the price of your coffee just touches the sky One man counts his verdict, another the cost And the common man wonders what has been lost. Oh, the ink's barely dry on the morning report A new cast of players in the very same sport

I've sung of these troubles in kingdoms and towns The rise of the righteous, the fall of the crowns It's the same old story, told a different way The wheel keeps on turning, come what may.