
The French Way
Propagandistic Rock, Dystopian Street Punk, Disharmonic Electric Violin, Saturated Bass Undercurrent, Sharp Guitar Interplay, Intense Vocal Presence, Minimal Reverb

The French Way
Propagandistic Rock, Dystopian Street Punk, Disharmonic Electric Violin, Saturated Bass Undercurrent, Sharp Guitar Interplay, Intense Vocal Presence, Minimal Reverb
Lyrics
They flew too high
They signed too deep
They built a web
They couldn’t keep
They bought the quiet
They sold the lie
They hid it all
In plain sight
Money moves
And secrets trade
Favors locked
And debts delayed
Compromised
Then pushed ahead
Smiling faces
Painted red
The 4th power is bought all out,
That’s why you never hear them shout!
The 3rd is compromised as well,
They’re in on it — you can tell!
The 2nd has lost its teeth to bite,
They fear the crowd and flee the fight
The 1st sits at the rotten core,
Those are the ones we’re coming for!
To make the world a bit more okay —
Sometimes the only solution is the French way!
Private jets and island nights
Handshake deals in firelight
Names blacked out, but everyone knew
Who was watching, who they flew
Oligarch gold, offshore veins
Dark money washing clean campaigns
Soft power smiles, hard-line goals
Buying ballots, shaping souls
Files unsealed, the threads align
Billionaires playing statecraft blind
Kings without crowns, votes on lease
Trading freedom for “stability” and peace
When laws bend for golden names
When truth is priced and pain’s insured
When silence earns a loyalty card
And mercy’s only for the pure
The 4th won’t speak unless it’s paid,
That’s why the truth comes late and frayed!
The 3rd performs a hollow act,
Checks and balances—just a plaque!
The 2nd just postures, bows, and waits,
Too scared to cross the palace gates
The 1st wrote rules it can’t obey,
So we tear the myth away TODAY!
To make the world a bit more okay —
Sometimes the only solution is the French way!
This won’t be done with leaks and files
This won’t be done with staged denials
When every name you tried to bury
Starts coming back in January
No gods, no kings, no offshore graves
No more markets you can pave
You bought the world—now watch it stare
While the crowd learns who you are
