EPISODE · Jun 28, 2026 · 4 MIN
HEATWAVE
from FRED STZ MUSIC · host FRED STZ
Verse 1 The fields are cracked, the rivers gone The sun's a mouth that feeds on dawn We built this furnace stone by stone And now we burn – but we're not alone The bankers count their golden dust The factories choke, the engines rust They trade the air, they sell the rain But no one buys the dying grain Chorus Heatwave, heatwave – you're the fever we chose You burn the skin and you blacken the rose The rich and the poor, they're all in the fire But the rich don't believe that the flames will climb higher Heatwave, heatwave – no shelter, no shade We dug our own grave while the profits were made Verse 2 The whales are gone, the bees don't hum The forests burn for a kingdom come The plastic sea, the poisoned bread The children choke on what we fed They promised gold, they promised light They gave us debt and endless night They sold us dreams on a melting shelf Now we choke – on our own wealth Bridge But listen – the engines hum a lie A lullaby for those who die The shareholders dance on melting ice And call it freedom – call it price They think their towers touch the sky But the heat will reach the penthouse high No vault is cold, no bunker deep When the earth decides you'll never sleep Verse 3 The deserts grow where forests stood The oceans rise like polished wood And still they drill, and still they burn With nothing left – they'll never learn They steal the land, they sell the seed They starve the world to fill their greed But hunger knows no class or race It eats the master's smiling face Final Chorus Heatwave, heatwave – you're the fever we chose You burn the skin and you blacken the rose The rich and the poor, they'll all disappear When the heatwave is all that is left to fear Heatwave, heatwave – no shelter, no shade We built this fire – now we must degrade Outro So rise, you hollow ones, you left-behind The money's worthless – the price is kind There is no profit in a dying star Only dust, and ash, and the scars of what we were Rise now, before the last well dries The heatwave is coming – it's in our eyes
What this episode covers
Verse 1 The fields are cracked, the rivers gone The sun's a mouth that feeds on dawn We built this furnace stone by stone And now we burn – but we're not alone The bankers count their golden dust The factories choke, the engines rust They trade the air, they sell the rain But no one buys the dying grain Chorus Heatwave, heatwave – you're the fever we chose You burn the skin and you blacken the rose The rich and the poor, they're all in the fire But the rich don't believe that the flames will climb higher Heatwave, heatwave – no shelter, no shade We dug our own grave while the profits were made Verse 2 The whales are gone, the bees don't hum The forests burn for a kingdom come The plastic sea, the poisoned bread The children choke on what we fed They promised gold, they promised light They gave us debt and endless night They sold us dreams on a melting shelf Now we choke – on our own wealth Bridge But listen – the engines hum a lie A lullaby for those who die The shareholders dance on melting ice And call it freedom – call it price They think their towers touch the sky But the heat will reach the penthouse high No vault is cold, no bunker deep When the earth decides you'll never sleep Verse 3 The deserts grow where forests stood The oceans rise like polished wood And still they drill, and still they burn With nothing left – they'll never learn They steal the land, they sell the seed They starve the world to fill their greed But hunger knows no class or race It eats the master's smiling face Final Chorus Heatwave, heatwave – you're the fever we chose You burn the skin and you blacken the rose The rich and the poor, they'll all disappear When the heatwave is all that is left to fear Heatwave, heatwave – no shelter, no shade We built this fire – now we must degrade Outro So rise, you hollow ones, you left-behind The money's worthless – the price is kind There is no profit in a dying star Only dust, and ash, and the scars of what we were Rise now, before the last well dries The heatwave is coming – it's in our eyes
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HEATWAVE
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