A high-speed dissection of political pageantry. This track pits virtuosic piano against a narrative of decaying governance, where the "Suit Circus" bows while the tent poles rot.
Check out the artist page.
Stream all 49 songs for free.
Story behind the song
This track explores the "friction" between the polished facade of governance and the raw decay underneath. I wanted the piano to feel as "sharp" as the smiles in the lyrics, pushing the tempo to 160 BPM to capture the frantic, desperate energy of a "circus" that knows the show is almost over.
Lyrics and concept by Ward C Locke. Music produced using Suno AI.
Lyrics
Behold the velvet creatures in their mirrored dens,
Trading silver whispers with their painted friends.
They rehearse their thunder for the nightly show,
Then slip behind the curtain where the real winds blow.
Step inside the Suit Circus
Where the smile is sharp and the promise bends.
Come take a seat, the illusion grows
They’re cutting the country in half, and everyone knows.
Forty days of pageant with the gates pulled tight,
Sacred hands dismissed like shadows fleeing light.
And the ringmaster hums on his perfumed throne,
Calling the bleeding crowd “a comfort zone.
Step inside the Suit Circus
Where the smile is sharp and the promise bends.
Come take a seat, the illusion grows
They’re cutting the country in half, and everyone knows.
Ladies and gentlemen behold the devotion
A slow, exquisite, state-sponsored erosion.
They call it governance.
I call it treason in a finer lotion.
Raise your glass to the Suit Circus, dear
The grandest delusion of another year.
Dance while the tent poles rot and the canvas frays
They’ll bow in the spotlight as the whole thing decays.
In the Suit Circus
In the Suit Circus
