Lyrics
[Verse 1]
Out past the broken gate
Where the cornfields quit
Raider scum on the ridgeline
Burned a whole town split
Old man stepped off the porch
With his hat in his hands
Said, “I’m headed for the Capital
If anybody can”
[Verse 2]
He crossed through ash and rattles
Past the busted mail truck bones
Kept the names of the missing
Like stones in his coat
At the gate he saw the towers
And a feast laid out in gold
While the rich drinks kept on pouring
In the President’s hold
[Pre-Chorus]
He said, “Sir, they took our water
They took our night”
“Folks are praying by the fences
Need a cavalry tonight”
The room got quiet for a second
Then the glass caught the light
[Chorus]
Capital’s thirst, capital’s thirst
Drink it slow, then let it burst
Capital’s thirst, capital’s thirst
Who gets saved and who gets cursed
(oh, who gets cursed)
Capital’s thirst, capital’s thirst
While the poor still bleed in dirt
[Verse 3]
President leaned back smiling
With a ring on every hand
Looked out past the window
At the smoke over the land
Said, “Tell them hold their line now
We’ll decide what’s theirs”
Then he lifted up his rich drink
Like it answered every prayer
[Pre-Chorus]
Old settler clenched his cowboy coat
And bit down on his tongue
Thought of kids behind the barricade
And barrels almost done
He said, “You call that freedom?”
The whole room said nothing
[Chorus]
Capital’s thirst, capital’s thirst
Drink it slow, then let it burst
Capital’s thirst, capital’s thirst
Who gets saved and who gets cursed
(oh, who gets cursed)
Capital’s thirst, capital’s thirst
While the poor still bleed in dirt
[Bridge]
Then a horn called from the wall line
Like a warning in the wind
The President lost his smile
When the smoke rolled in
Old settler tipped his hat low
Said, “That’s my answer now”
And he turned back for the wasteland
With a fire in his plow
[Final Chorus]
Capital’s thirst, capital’s thirst
Drink it slow, then let it burst
Capital’s thirst, capital’s thirst
You can’t feast on what you curse
(what you curse)
Capital’s thirst, capital’s thirst
Now the whole damn table’s hurt
Style of Music
Melodic country with a steady two-step pulse, brushed drums, iron-string acoustic, mournful fiddle, and a low harmonica line; verse stays spare with fingerpicked guitar and close-mic lead vocal, pre-chorus opens with harmony stacks and a rising fiddle turn, chorus lands with gang shouts and a bigger drum thump. Dusty vinyl warmth, wide but intimate mix, with short delay throws on the hook words and a final chorus that swells then fades into a lone guitar tag., rich, country