[Intro]
[Harpsichord circles through the three-note motif as the ballroom returns to a measured waltz.]

One floor for dancers, one for kings,
One hidden floor where data sings.
One rail of gold above the crowd,
Where quiet wealth need not speak loud.

[Verse 1]
Bezos in the balcony, looking down below,
Watching polished partners turn in measured rows.
A tablet waits beneath a silver dome;
One screen maps the room, one maps each home.
Boxes crossed the nation through a million bays;
Now those pathways carry speeches, films and praise.
A cloud of rented memory hums beneath the floor,
Holding every profile, promise, knock and door.

[Chorus]
Bezos in the balcony, high above the floor,
Every smile a delivery, every bow a door.
Promises are packed and sealed, every favor tracked--
Bezos in the balcony, who owns the final act?

[Verse 3]
The president looks upward and acknowledges the rail;
A camera catches half a nod, then sends it with the sale.
The host announces freedom as the banners turn;
In warehouses beyond the belt, the midnight scanners burn.
A woman tapes another box, her swollen wrist concealed;
A driver reeds the route again, no margin in the field.
Their labor moves the banquet, every lamp and rose;
No invitation names the hands that made it glow.

[Instrumental Break]
[Cello and distorted guitar trade the waltz melody while metallic glass strikes land on every third beat.]

[Bridge]
The rhythm breaks to four.
The workers lose the count.
Every step becomes a shift,
Every turn becomes amount.

[Bridge]
No single hand built every chain,
No single face controls the rain.
But when pipelines meet the crown,
The highest rail looks farther down.

[Final Chorus]
Bezos in the balcony, framed in server light,
Those who own the road can choose what reaches sight.
Every cloud has cables, every crown has cost;
Every polished platform casts a worker in the frost.

[Outro]
The harpsichord releases one unresolved reply.
A drone moves past the balcony and turns its open eye.
Below, the editor unfolds the wordless sheet.
Outside, rain keeps writing on the street.