EPISODE · Jun 29, 2026 · 3 MIN
Thermocracy
from FRED STZ MUSIC · host FRED STZ
The city sweats in its concrete skin The asphalt breathes the fever in The poor fan flames with broken fans While the rich adjust their golden plans The children run through rivers of dust The old ones crumble, turn to rust But high above in crystal towers The cool air falls like chemical flowers They built a world of heat and greed Then fled the fire they helped to feed They breathe the cold they stole from grace And leave the rest to burn in place The thermocrat says I am the air While the city chokes on his despair He rides the storms he helped to make And buys the silence of the lake The poor dig graves with their own breath The rich are cool in the face of death The heat will rise, the seas will claim But the rich will move and stay the same The farmer cries for ancient rain The banker smiles at the hurricane He bets on floods, he trades on drought And counts the dead to even out The factory hums, the children cough The worker's lungs are wearing off But in the shade of private jets They sip their guilt and have no debts They say we all are in this fight But some are cool and some alight Some are in the cooling breeze Some are on their melting knees They sell us carbon, sell us air They sell the future we don't dare To see the truth inside the frost That the rich have never truly lost The thermocrat says I am the air While the city chokes on his despair He rides the storms he helped to make And buys the silence of the lake The poor dig graves with their own breath The rich are cool in the face of death The heat will rise, the seas will claim But the rich will move and stay the same So raise your hands to the burning sky The cool air is a wealthy lie We built this fire with our own chains And now the cool air feeds the flames Of the thermocrat the air of shame
What this episode covers
The city sweats in its concrete skin The asphalt breathes the fever in The poor fan flames with broken fans While the rich adjust their golden plans The children run through rivers of dust The old ones crumble, turn to rust But high above in crystal towers The cool air falls like chemical flowers They built a world of heat and greed Then fled the fire they helped to feed They breathe the cold they stole from grace And leave the rest to burn in place The thermocrat says I am the air While the city chokes on his despair He rides the storms he helped to make And buys the silence of the lake The poor dig graves with their own breath The rich are cool in the face of death The heat will rise, the seas will claim But the rich will move and stay the same The farmer cries for ancient rain The banker smiles at the hurricane He bets on floods, he trades on drought And counts the dead to even out The factory hums, the children cough The worker's lungs are wearing off But in the shade of private jets They sip their guilt and have no debts They say we all are in this fight But some are cool and some alight Some are in the cooling breeze Some are on their melting knees They sell us carbon, sell us air They sell the future we don't dare To see the truth inside the frost That the rich have never truly lost The thermocrat says I am the air While the city chokes on his despair He rides the storms he helped to make And buys the silence of the lake The poor dig graves with their own breath The rich are cool in the face of death The heat will rise, the seas will claim But the rich will move and stay the same So raise your hands to the burning sky The cool air is a wealthy lie We built this fire with our own chains And now the cool air feeds the flames Of the thermocrat the air of shame
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Thermocracy
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