[Verse 1] (Male) Refineries coughing smoke across the Volga line, Ukraine counts the damage — over half the barrels dry, Drones like hornets diving through the derrick's steel ribs, Half the fuel for tanks and trucks just turned to ash and fibs. Day one thousand six hundred eighty-four and climbing still, Zelensky says Washington's drafting talks, a paper will, End of October maybe, pens instead of guns, But Moscow's loading rockets while the clock still runs. [Chorus] Half the refineries down, that's the number tonight, Berlin's sending euros while Kyiv holds the light, Drones over the rooftops, troops dug underground, This is the ledger of the war, written pound for pound. [Verse 2] (Female) Down in occupied Oleshky, cupboards empty, lean, Landmines in the cabbage rows where kids used to play clean, Drones that hum at midnight like a wasp against the glass, Hunger is a weapon now, and it's built to last. Merz stands up in Berlin, says a billion euros, cash, Armor plates and air defense to answer Moscow's lash, Meanwhile Zelensky speaks and Russia's ministry replies: "We will strike you harder" — that's the warning in their eyes. [Chorus] Half the refineries down, that's the number tonight, Berlin's sending euros while Kyiv holds the light, Drones over the rooftops, troops dug underground, This is the ledger of the war, written pound for pound. [Verse 3] (Duet) M: Kyiv's grid is flickering, the substations gasp for breath, F: Foreign Policy calls it bleeding — slow attrition, death by debt, M: NPR hears the soldiers underground, their boots on clay, F: Counting drones like heartbeats till the dark turns into day. Both: Talks by Halloween, they say, a calendar of hope, Thin as copper wire, but it's the only rope. [Verse 4] (Male) Satellite photos show the tank yards sitting rusted, still, Analysts debate the numbers, argue over who foots the bill, Convoys of grain diverted south where harbors used to thrive, Every port a gamble now on who gets out alive. The diplomats in Geneva trade their drafts like poker hands, While generals study maps of fields turned into no-man's lands, Somewhere a mother lights a candle, prays the lights stay on, Somewhere a soldier counts the hours till the dawn. [Bridge] Half a refinery system, one small word for shattered, A billion euros counted while a city's power's battered, Oleshky's children measuring hunger by the hour, This is the arithmetic of somebody else's power. [Chorus] Half the refineries down, that's the number tonight, Berlin's sending euros while Kyiv holds the light, Drones over the rooftops, troops dug underground, This is the ledger of the war, written pound for pound. [Outro] October sixth, the dossier closes, not the war, Pens on the table, rockets still keep score, And somewhere in the static of the midnight radio wave, The numbers keep on climbing for the things we couldn't save.
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