[Verse 1] Saturday night, the sky got stitched with fire, thirty-six ballistic missiles climbing higher, but hold up — that headline only told you half, hundred seventy-two drones riding the same path. Kyiv and twelve more regions caught the spray, nine people wounded, a child among that day, power cut, water stalled, the pipes ran dry, only four of thirty-six missiles knocked from sky. [Chorus] Drone and missile, call it what it really is, headline said "missile" but the sky was full of both of this, Abu Dhabi waiting, Tuesday turns to talk, territory's the canyon wider than the walk. [Verse 2] Russia's defense ministry claims a clean design, says they hit a bridge, a missile plant in line, can't confirm that from the rubble on the ground, so stack the numbers, here's what gets found — back on the third the barrage ran much higher, two-eighty-nine drones feeding the fire, seventeen ballistic, fifty-nine cruise in the mix, tonight's a smaller storm, still it broke the grid. [Verse 3] Word spread fast that Budanov leads the room, turns out that's a misstep, cleared the rumor's fume, Rustem Umerov's the name upon the seat, Zelensky's adviser set the record clean and neat. Small detail, matters when the table's set, know who's negotiating 'fore the ink gets wet. [Chorus] Drone and missile, call it what it really is, headline said "missile" but the sky was full of both of this, Abu Dhabi waiting, Tuesday turns to talk, territory's the canyon wider than the walk. [Verse 4] Tenth and eleventh, Abu Dhabi's where they'll sit, Witkoff says it's de-escalation, humanitarian bit, security arrangements, nothing signed in stone, Taylor asks the real one: has Moscow's stance been blown? Zelensky's pushing past the working-level chat, wants a leaders' meeting, circled on the mat, watch the wires close for ceasefire terms or date, that's the needle moving, that's the thing that's great. [Verse 5] Grid engineers out working through the frozen dark, patching up the substations, chasing every spark, hospitals on generators, schools delayed again, civilians keep the count that politics won't pen. Every strike's a line item, every name a cost, behind the diplomatic talk is what the city lost, so when you read the wires and the leaders' careful press, remember whose the rubble, whose the sleepless mess. [Bridge] Four stopped out of thirty-six, run that math again, drones were half the story that the headline wouldn't pen, numbers hold more weight than any slogan ever can, read behind the wire before you understand. [Outro] November eighth, the ledger keeps its count, nine wounded, lights out, talks still on the mount, Abu Dhabi circled, two days left to go, that's tonight's report — now you know. [Chorus] Drone and missile, call it what it really is, headline said "missile" but the sky was full of both of this, Abu Dhabi waiting, Tuesday turns to talk, territory's the canyon wider than the walk.
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