(Lo-fi siren under a distant beat — spoken, low)
They hand out apologies with napkins and smiles — but the gutters know the truth
Verse 1
City breathes in exhaust and broken promises
Kids count lights on the skyline like lost witnesses
Shelter line’s longer than the mayor’s smile at a ribbon-cutting scene
They plant flags for headlines, plant nothing in between
Food stamps like confetti, fallin’ through their polished shoes
A politician’s empathy lights up the screen for two
“Prayers and thoughts,” they pledge — then shake a hand and leave
Paper hearts in suits, while the block keeps grievin’ and grieves
Chorus
Why does the government have empathy on camera?
Why does empathy come wrapped in a banner?
They kiss the glass, then go back to the plan
Paper hearts, concrete hands — what’s the master plan?
Why does the government have empathy on camera?
Why do apologies sound like propaganda?
When the lights go dim, who understands?
Paper hearts, concrete hands
Verse 2
They fund a statue, name a road — call it “progress” on the news
Then cut the clinic’s hours, like compassion’s just a ruse
A grant for a photo-op, a speech in an air-conditioned room
They measure suffering by soundbites, give charity a tomb
A mother counts coins while the city counts votes
They bake empathy into reports, seal it with their notes
When protestors chant for shelter, cameras show the side-stage plan
They clap for the optics, not the people in the sand
Chorus
Why does the government have empathy on camera?
Why does empathy come wrapped in a banner?
They kiss the glass, then go back to the plan
Paper hearts, concrete hands — what’s the master plan?
Why does the government have empathy on camera?
Why do apologies sound like propaganda?
When the lights go dim, who understands?
Paper hearts, concrete hands
Bridge (spoken, close)
Empathy’s cheap when delivered in speeches — free with every press release
Real empathy stays, it don’t flash, it don’t film, it don’t ask for applause
It shows up at midnight with blankets and real names — not polls
Verse 3
We read the bills like bedtime stories that never told the truth
Tax breaks for the towers, crumbs for the roofless youth
They train their smiles in mirrors, practice pity for the lens
But a bandage on a headline ain’t the same as healin’ the dents
Neighbors trade recipes and childcare and care
That’s empathy on the ground — not a soundbite affair
We don’t want your speeches or your ribbon-cutting bands
We want streets with warm lights and honest helping hands
Chorus (harder)
Why does the government have empathy on camera?
Why does empathy come wrapped in a banner?
They kiss the glass, then go back to the plan
Paper hearts, concrete hands — tell me, who stands?
Why does the government have empathy on camera?
Why do apologies sound like propaganda?
When the lights go dim, who understands?
Paper hearts, concrete hands
Outro (fading, echo)
So ask the question loud where the sirens drown the band —
If empathy’s real, why do they sell it by command?
Paper hearts, concrete hands — we’re still waiting on the stand