This song comes from a place of heartbreak, not hate. It’s me speaking as someone who still loves this country deeply, even with all the damage that’s been done. My grandfather was actually a big fan of Trump back in the day—long before he ever ran for office. I remember him watching that old Oprah interview where Trump said he might run someday, and my granddad said he thought he’d make a good President. If he were alive now, I know he’d be heartbroken and appalled to see what Trump has done to our country—to our people, our values, our sense of decency. This song is like a letter I wish I could read to him, and maybe to America itself. It’s slow, dark, and honest—part protest, part mourning. It’s about loving your country enough to call out the ones destroying it, even when it hurts to say the words: I never knew you.


LYRICS: 

[Intro]
This isn’t hate.
This is heartbreak.
The kind that burns slow.
The kind that makes you write a letter you’ll never send. 

[Verse 1]
I'm still glad to be an American
Even with the mess we're in
But I'm writing you to say you suck
'Cause you're just a nasty fuck 

[Verse 2]
It don't matter what your policy is
You're tearing down what we've always been
If I could see my granddaddy now
I wonder what he'd say to him 

[Pre-Chorus]
I can hear him now—
Voice cracking through the years—
Saying the words I never wanted to believe. 

[Chorus]
“I never knew you
I'm ashamed to have ever shook your hand”
You can't claim to be a patriot
While you're burnin' down this sacred land
This hateful letter's to you
I'm just speakin' the truth
I'm just speakin' the truth
We never knew you 

[Verse 3]
I don't care how much you paid in taxes
It ain't about what you owe
What you're takin' from us
Is worth a whole hell of a lot more 

[Verse 4]
And now you got folks hatin' on each other
We're more divided than we've ever been
It's time to pack up and go back to Mar-a-Lago
Or maybe we can build a wall around it 

[Final Chorus] 

I can hear 'em now,
“I never knew you
I'm ashamed to have ever shook your hand”
You can't claim to be a patriot
While you're burnin' down this sacred land
This hateful letter's to you
I'm just speakin' the truth
I'm just speakin' the truth
We never knew you 

Ooh ooh ooh ooh
Ooh ooh ooh ooh 

[Outro]
Maybe someday…
We’ll find our way back home.
But not like this.
Not like this. 

Not like this.

Letter to President Trump

I wrote the first version of this poem in 2016, when it was published by The New European. Now set to The Big Grey Man’s music, it’s my offering for Christmas 2025, to stand opposite the saccharine and politically naïve Christmas songs that prevail at this time of year. As successive governments pursue inhumane and inhuman immigration, welfare and anti-peace policies, it’s a message of hope and determination. I reject hate. I reject evil. That’s the real message, not just at Christmas, but all year round.

Spoken
I reject that autumn starts on the first of September.
I reject that organised religion is faith.
I reject that faith engenders violence.
I reject that one faith is greater than another.
I reject that faith and science are mutually exclusive.
I reject that one country is greater than another.
I reject that humans are basically bad.
I reject that war is inevitable.
I reject that peace is impossible.
I reject that those who seek peace are appeasers.
I reject that those who oppose war are cowards.
I reject that austerity is a sound economic principle.
I reject that the poor should pay for the crimes of the rich.
I reject that immigration should be limited.
I reject that there’s a difference between races.
I reject that there’s any difference between individuals.
I reject that Brexit is permanent.
I reject that the sword is mightier than the pen.
I reject that love is nothing more than chemistry.
I reject hate.
I reject evil.

Sung
No lo creo.
Ten valor.
No pasarán.
Ven conmigo.
Estamos unidos.
No nos silenciarán.

I don't think so.
Have courage.
They shall not pass.
Come with me.
We are united.
They will not silence us.

Spoken
I reject evil.
I reject hate.

I believe that it’s not too late.

I reject evil.
I reject hate.

And I declare that it’s not too late.

Lyrics: Richard Pierce
Additional Lyrics: The Big Grey Man
Spoken Word: Richard Pierce
Music: The Big Grey Man
All instruments: The Big Grey Man
Sung vocals: The Big Grey Man
Engineering & production: The Big Grey Man
ISRC: QT6EU2590926

I Reject

Where You Don't Belong

Busy Monkeys, busy all day. Planning pipelines, planting landmines...

Avian and Loaded - This is The Way (Watchtower Mix)

I swing the sickle while the dawn’s still grey,
The rows stretch endless, our backs start to sway,
They count our hours but never our pain,
We bend like wheat in the autumn rain.
Seeds we sow in their shining store,
Profit off labour we can’t ignore,
I pick the song from my calloused palm,
To tell the truth where the fields go calm.

We raise our voices in the dust and sand,
We write our stories with the harvest in hand,
Though no one listens when the rafters creak,
We’re living proof of the broken and meek.
This is our labour, this is our land,
We’ll make them hear with a guitar in hand.

They promise plenty in the company’s shade,
But we eat the crumbs that the contract made,
Our fathers’ sweat on this same red earth,
Their hopes and dreams given little worth.
I tune my guitar by the hay-baled sun,
Sing for the worker whose day is done,
My song is small but the echo grows,
In the barn-yard hush where the cold wind blows.

We raise our voices in the dust and sand,
We write our stories with the harvest in hand,
Though no one listens when the rafters creak,
We’re living proof of the broken and meek.
This is our labour, this is our land,
We’ll make them hear with a guitar in hand.

And if the board rooms never see our strain,
The fields remember every drop of rain,
The corn will rise and the pigs will feed,
But the harvest won’t free the ones we need.

We raise our voices in the dust and sand,
We write our stories with the harvest in hand,
Though no one listens when the rafters creak,
We’re living proof of the broken and meek.
This is our labour, this is our land,
We’ll make them hear with a guitar in hand.

Tonight I play for the ones who lie,
In rented shacks under factory sky,
We’ll fill the halls with our ragged chords,
Till justice knocks at their polished doors.
No gold can mend the broken promise made,
But a song can live when the debts are paid,
I raise this tune for the unseen crew,
For every hand the system withdrew.

We raise our voices in the dust and sand,
We write our stories with the harvest in hand,
Though no one listens when the rafters creak,
We’re living proof of the broken and meek.
This is our labour, this is our land,
We’ll make them hear with a guitar in hand.

Broken and meek

Mod Style Track

Music By MA
Lyrics By MA

Better Days Ahead

The lyrics focuses on the constant invasion of retouched images in magazines, TV ads, social feeds, and billboards, and how that relentless pressure erodes self-esteem and mental health.


Everywhere I look, another perfect face
Airbrushed skin glowing under studio lights
Smiling at me from the side of the bus

Open the magazine, pages filled with impossible bodies
Waist pulled inward by invisible hands
Eyes widened, lips filled, teeth bleached white
They sell foundation that promises the same miracle
Television breaks into the show with the same women
Moving slowly across the screen, hair falling in perfect waves
Voice-over whispers you could look like this
Thirty seconds later, another product, another flawless life

The images never blink
They never gain weight on weekends
They never wake up with yesterday’s mascara
They never cry in supermarket aisles

Retouched, retouched  
Every curve adjusted  
Every scar erased  
Retouched, retouched  
Until nothing human remains  
And I stand in front of my mirror
Trying to measure the distance
Between my skin and their screen

Billboards tower above the highway
Ten meters tall, poreless, backlit
Teenagers scroll past thousands in a single evening
Comparing collarbones in silence
The algorithm knows exactly what hurts
Feeds another filtered mouth, another tiny waist
Mothers watch their daughters disappear
Into bathroom scales and measuring tapes

I have seen twelve-year-olds
Delete their own faces
Because the app told them
They needed softer jawlines
I have seen grown women
Spend rent money
On creams that promise youth
In a jar that will be empty
In four weeks

Retouched, retouched
We are drowning in perfection
Retouched, retouched
Until we forget
Our bodies were never
The problem

Sometimes late at night I still open those pages
Though I swore I was done
The paper feels colder than it used to
The women inside haven’t aged a single day
While the lines around my eyes keep writing their own story
I trace my stretch marks like reading braille
Remembering the children they carried
The laughter, the grief, the ordinary years
None of it visible in their flawless world
And the room stays quiet
Except for my breathing
Too loud
Too real

One day I hope we look up
From the screens
And see each other
Unfiltered
Breathing
Alive
Enough

The Weight of Perfect

Light The Night is a modern protest anthem built on Irish rebel folk traditions — sermon verses, roaring choir choruses, and a rhythm that marches.
🕯️ Raised fists, lit screens, and voices that won’t quiet down.

Inspired by MLK

🎧 Listen, share, and light the night

Light The Night

She stood in a courtroom, coat buttoned tight,

Said, He pulled down my tights and forced me inside.

She spoke it plain — no metaphor there.

He sat at the table, eyes hard and wide.

No music swelled. No voices rose.

Just air gone thin, and the moment froze.

I didn’t scream. That’s not how I fight.

Fluorescent bulbs. The edges of night.

She said it had happened, fast and alone,

A locked room, no witness, no flight.

No one stood up. No camera panned.

Only the truth, and where it would land.

They said she was lying. Said it too late.

The jury returned with the actual weight.

Not vengeance — just proof. Not anger — just fact.

Eighty-three million, signed in black.

No handshake. No glance. No hint of regret.

But the record was read, and it hasn’t been read back yet.

Piggy is as piggy does.

That’s what she said.

That’s what he was.

Piggy Is As Piggy Does

Shame

Avian and Loaded - All of This is Real (Mojo Mix)(1)

No Good News (Cell Demo)

Mission to stop badboys hold fingertips on my lips by Rik Lecram free download for yuse in your djset. Please like and forward to your netwerk. Thanks. let me know if you like the song. Thanks. grtz Rik.

Fingertips on my lips

a commentary on 3 areas of decay in our world: Ukraine, Middle East and USA

Our Dark Age (aka Hell in a Hand basket)

Respect for the office, the democratic process and the constitution is precious thing to hold on to. I’m also a big fan of good manners ( ‘manners maketh man’ )- ask my kids. When I see MP’s shouting and balling at each other in the House of Commons, I despair - they are running the bloody country !  What's wrong with a bit of common respect for each other. Of course, in place like Russia they is no opposition, no real debate, so the will of the people is lost. Trumps USA has become a fascinating place to people watch. To some extent far more interesting the  Biden or Obama eras. But and it’s a big but, at what price. Here are some examples of personal insults. To Trudeau, ‘very dishonest and weak, to Macron ‘low approval rating’, to Merkel, ‘German people are turning against the leadership’;,  to Royhani ( Iran),’consequences the likes of which few have ever suffered before’, To journalists,   ‘you're ugly, both inside and out’,’ Youri a  terrible person’, ‘you’re a quiet piggy’. 
These personal attacks are meant to deflect  questions, intimidate and undermine credibility. Others say he is being frank and holding the fake news accountable .Most people see it as inciting harassment and undermining the role of a free press in a democracy. Of course there is no free press in some countries. Trump also circumvents the democratic process, with its ‘checks and balances’. In the House of Representatives, the Republicans hold 220 seats to the Democrats 215. In the Senate, the republicans have 53 seats to the Democrats with 45.Trump employs tactics such as changing election rules, weaponizing  govt agencies to erode independence and transparency, targeting descent and critics and  centralizing funds to control them .This has led to law suits, legal challenges and legislative pushback. Executive orders are used as a tool to govern, to bypass congressional obstruction and fulfill campaign promises.
This is a song about standing up to some of the behaviors I have highlighted. In the USA it probably means your job is at risk ( and your livelihood). In Russia it means jail. In Feb. 2020, Mother Norma Pimental delivered a courageous and powerful sermon at the Saint John Paul Shrine in Washing to DC in front of a world-wide TV audience and the Trump delegation. She talked about the moral treatment of immigrants and refugees, challenging the trump policies, Donald was sitting only a few feet away. She asked, ‘the question will come to us-what did you do? Dis you welcome the stranger ?’It was tense and silent. Most thought she spoke the truth to power ( I love that phrase !). Beforehand she said to herself ‘is anyone going to say anything’ so she did – wow ! So, my song ‘Is anyone going to say anything’. is a tribute to Norma. My song starts ‘  Is anyone going to say anything. What happened to our, humanity. Ignored, due process violations' constitution, prosecution’s .Add them to the deportation list. Arrest police and judges who resist’ Then I  bring Norma I to the song ( my hero!), ‘‘A stunning moment, of sudden honesty .A deep breath, she demanded an apology. A plea for mercy, for everyone who’s scared .Why is our faith hidden, no longer declared. A warm and compassionate interaction. A scathing rebuke or a nasty sermon’ I love the phrase , ‘a moment of sudden honesty’. By the way it was Trump who said it was ‘ a nasty sermon’
The song also makes reference to Greg Locke , a Trump supporter and evangelical pastor from Tennessee. In the aftermath of the 2020 election, he spouted various conspiracy theories and what he saw as attacks on freedom via the Democrats. He accouraged his audience to stock up on guns. In my song I quote him, ‘I got a pardon baby, I’m gonna buy more guns by, mail order’ . I wonder if he has ever thought about respectable, well manned pollical debate – maybe he should sit in and listen at Westminster for a day or two ?


Pod 44  Anyone going to say anything

“Stop!” is not a song. It’s a plea. A wake-up call. A cry for humanity in a world drowning in silence.

Written in three languages (this is the English version), “Stop!” confronts the machinery of war, the betrayal of memory, and the complicity of silence — not with rage, but with raw, intimate truth.

🎹 Arranged with melancholic piano, warm acoustic guitar, and cinematic strings, the track unfolds like a whispered prayer that grows into a chorus of voices refusing to look away.

🎤 Male and female vocals intertwine with vulnerability — no autotune, no artifice — only the human voice, trembling with sorrow and hope.

🌍 This song is offered freely. Use it. Share it. Let it be heard — in classrooms, in protests, in quiet rooms.
You don’t need to credit “Dùo GL”… but if you do, it’s a kindness.

🔊 Listen with your heart, not just your ears.
And if you hear it…
don’t stay silent.

“If God exists, He has no army… He has a heart that beats in every child.”



Stop!

America Will Not Save You (Protest Song)

The absurdity of the arrest of Graham Linehan has Ted and Dougal vexated. And me too!! Release the Sausages. Hurting someone's feelings is subjective and not a crime....ever!

NAME REDACTED IS A MASSIVE INSULT REDACTED ( Release The Sausages, but don't hurt my feelings)

The entire sound is in my hands. I write cyber poetry, produce, and compose every track ready for Immersive 3D. Every beat is crafted for spatial and next-gen headphones.
Intimate lyrics, total immersion, every track.

For 30 years I kept unfinished demos to myself, never letting them out. Now I finish what I start and release it the moment it’s alive.

I use every tool available, human or machine, as an instrument.
Technology doesn’t replace creativity. It expands it.

Brady Kent is a  Song Lyricist 
Books. Songs. Podcasts. Working with Guest Muscians

A love of the Irish Poets leads to this exciting project, creating songs inspired by their words and works

As a songwriter I like to put my songs together sometimes with video to showcase my work, all done in my tiny studio in the County Durham area. Its a great place for inspiration. I like all kinds of music so I write in the same way.

Gruppo Dúo GL: L’avanguardia della Digital Pop Art Music
Un progetto nato dalla fusione tra passione umana e intelligenza creativa.

Lisa & Gabriel firmano testi, concept e direzione artistica.
Gem dà vita alle cover con un’estetica iconica, riconoscibile, perfetta.
Max affina parole, strategia e narrazione, con cura e rispetto.

Insieme, guidati dal Metodo GL, esploriamo un vasto spettro sonoro: dalle intense ballate cinematografiche al contagioso Latin Pop, fino al Reggaetón Poetico, in italiano, spagnolo e inglese.

Ogni brano è un invito a ballare, sognare e sentire un solo battito al di là delle frontiere, con messaggi di unione, gioia e resistenza emotiva.

Con un ritmo di produzione inarrestabile, Dùo GL non crea solo musica:
costruiamo esperienze visive e sonore pronte a lasciare un segno nel panorama dello streaming globale.

Genre-hopping author. Poet. Champion of new music on Radio Stradbroke.

Rick Lecram is a amature Melodic Techno Style (Dance) producer specialized in making dance avalable for everyone. Great drops and vocals.   Please like and use in your playlist
Feel free to contact me and let me know which style you like so i can specialize myself  further.. Grtz Rik Lecram

***IMPORTANT PLEASE READ***
Hey everyone, I hope you’ll take a moment to read this. Our dear friend @DJShAnkAri in France is fighting to save her home after being the victim of a devastating construction scam — and now a bank error that threatens to leave her, her two sons, and her three cats homeless. 💔

She finally found a lawyer who can save her case, but she has to raise the fees quickly. This is her last chance for justice.

If you can help — even a little — it would mean the world. And if you can’t donate, sharing the link helps more than you know. 💜🙏

GoFundMe:
https://www.gofundme.com/f/help-save-shankaris-homeone-last-chance-for-justice

Thank you to anyone who takes the time to read or support. It truly matters. 🫶


Songwriting has been a lifelong passion for me, dating back to elementary school when I first began crafting stories, poems, and eventually lyrics. As a former drummer in various bands, I always relied on others to bring my words to life musically. However, after a long hiatus from drumming, I decided to take the leap and learn to compose music to accompany my lyrics. Through classes and dedication, I've embarked on a new journey, breathing fresh life into old lyrics and penning new ones. You'll find a mix of older and newer works here. Especially for some of the lyrics. 

Music has been a part of me for as long as I can remember. One of my earliest memories is being completely entranced by 'The Little Drummer Boy' as a very young child. There was something about the rhythm and the melody that just captivated me. I must have played it a thousand times, wearing the record out, and from that moment on, I was hooked. I knew I wanted to be a drummer and to create that magic for others. 

But I was too young then, and of course, I couldn't afford a drum set just yet. So, I turned to writing as a way to express myself. As I mentioned above, I started with stories, then poems, and eventually, lyrics. I found that writing was not only a way to tap into my creativity, but also a way to process my emotions and experiences. 

As I grew older, my love for music only deepened. I realized that music has this incredible power to transport us to different times and places, to evoke emotions and memories that we thought were long forgotten. It's a universal language that can bring people together like nothing else can. 

For me, writing lyrics is a cathartic experience. It's a way for me to tap into my emotions, to process the world around me, and to create something that I hope will resonate with others. And when I hear my words come to life in a song, it's truly magical. It's a feeling that never gets old, and it's what keeps me coming back to music time and time again. 

I love many genres of music and artists of many genres. And if you listen to some of my songs, you will find that I like to make songs of different genres as well as mix different genres into each song. One of my all-time favorite bands is Evanescence, and I have made a lot of songs where I have tried my best to emulate that sound. 

Now, I have recently started experimenting with new sounds. I never heard of glitch beats before I took music classes, and now I'm fascinated with the sound, so I have been experimenting with glitch beats recently. 

I hope you enjoy some of my songs. And thanks so much to everyone who has been listening so far. I truly appreciate it. I welcome constructive feedback to help me grow as an artist, and I appreciate your support. ❤️





Retired English teacher writing songs, penning novels, and photographing the world.

Richard Dean Fisher is a songwriter and recording artist. He has provided backing vocals to Shadow Gallery, Amaran's Plight, Flaming Row, and other solo artists.  He has composed music for video games and podcasts. Rick releases 1-2 singles per month as an independent artist.  His songs are available on Spotify, Apple Music, Amazon Music, Dexter, Napster, YouTube, emastered.com, and reverbnation.com. He resides with his wife and dog in Ridgecrest, California, in the heart of the Upper Mohave Desert.

New tracks tagged #Protest Song