Ballad of the Volunteer State - Live
由 Jay Hart 使用 Udio AI 创建
Lyrics
Down in the heart of the Volunteer land, Where the rivers run and the hills stand grand, A storm’s been brewing in the statehouse halls, With maps redrawn where the shadow falls. The old guitar strums a troubled chord, For a game of power on the legislator’s board, Where lines are drawn with a silent sneer, Voices lost, yet the truth is clear. “Fair play,” cries the man on the street, But the deck’s been stacked in the Nashville heat, Where majority rules with a tight-clenched fist, And the echoes of democracy seem to twist. Harmonicas cry beneath Capitol’s dome, Singing tales of a place that once felt like home, Where the will of the many gets trapped and small, Under gerrymandered lines that divide and sprawl. In every corner of this storied place, The people’s choice should set the pace, But as long as the maps are drawn for gain, The cries for justice will remain. The song keeps playing, don’t turn it low, For every seed hidden still waits to grow, And in the fields where the wildflowers sway, The spirit of Tennessee might find its way.
