Query successful "Blood in the Fountain" is a gritty, blues-infused alternative rock anthem that critiques industrial and corporate exploitation through vivid social realism.
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Story behind the song
"Blood in the Fountain" is a powerful blues-rock anthem that exposes the dark side of the corporate grind. Moving from soulful harmonica verses to an explosive, defiant chorus, it tells a story of industrial neglect and the enduring spirit of resistance. It’s a raw, foot-stomping reckoning for the modern age. The song explores the human cost of industry and systemic neglect:
The Injustice: The lyrics describe a man "bleeding on Montgomery street" and the devastating impact of industrial pollution, specifically mentioning a father's lungs turning "black from dust".
Corporate Neglect: It critiques corporate indifference through lines about a "denied claim," an algorithm determining life's worth, and children "choking on corporate mountains".
Resilience and Activism: The song references historic activism, like "Grandma marched in Birmingham '63," and concludes with a defiant call for a "flood, not a petition".
The Conflict: The refrain "I've tasted blood in marble fountains" serves as a powerful metaphor for the wealth of the few being built on the suffering of the many.
Lyrics and concept by Ward C Locke. Music produced using Suno AI.
Lyrics
Saw a man bleeding on Montgomery Street,
Cops said he slipped, blood told the truth.
Rode the Greyhound through Flint and Gary's bones,
Rust and bodies under factory stones.
My father's lungs turned black from dust,
Company said it was "insufficient trust."
They said bow down and pray,
They said it'll be okay.
I've tasted blood in marble fountains,
Heard children choke on corporate mountains.
We're not singing hymns, we're howling truth,
This reckoning's got nothing left to lose.
Rosa's kid is coughing refinery air,
Governor's on TV saying "we care."
Jimmy died waiting on a denied claim,
Algorithm said his life's not worth the pain.
Selling us the same old grave,
Asking which masters we'll obey.
I've tasted blood in marble fountains,
Heard children choke on corporate mountains.
We're not singing hymns, we're howling truth,
This reckoning's got nothing left to lose.
Grandma marched in Birmingham '63,
They turned the hoses,
Water felt like teeth.
She got back up.
She got back up.
She got back up.
Light your match from fires they've been hiding,
Every denied claim, every body they've been sliding.
We're not asking the dead for permission,
This is the flood, not a petition.
When dawn breaks on the picket line,
When the last CEO runs out of time,
We'll plant gardens in their cracks,
Feed each other, take it back.
I've tasted blood in marble fountains,
Heard children choke on corporate mountains.
We're not singing hymns, we're howling truth,
The reckoning is me and you.
If you're broken, lay here broken too,
We'll heal together, make it through.
This ain't a dream, this ain't prayer
This is the flood, we're already there.
