Verse 1
Milan lights were shining bright,
Winter Games of twenty-six,
Hunter Hess stood on the snow,
Spoke his mind and lit the wick,
Said the climate back at home
Made it hard to wear the name,
Of a country torn apart—
Nothing here would be the same.
Chorus
Oh, these slopes of division,
Where the flags don't feel like ours,
One man speaks, another strikes,
From their separate towers,
Truth Social burns at midnight,
While the mountains hold their snow,
On the slopes of division,
Tell me where do we go?
Verse 2
Sunday morning, Trump replied,
Words like daggers, cold and keen,
Called the skier "real Loser"
On a presidential screen,
Said he doesn't represent
This country at the Games,
An Olympian dismissed
In a war of bitter names.
Chorus
Oh, these slopes of division,
Where the flags don't feel like ours,
One man speaks, another strikes,
From their separate towers,
Truth Social burns at midnight,
While the mountains hold their snow,
On the slopes of division,
Tell me where do we go?
Verse 3
Once the stars and stripes would fly
And we'd cheer with one accord,
Now an athlete's honest words
Become a politician's sword,
Hunter racing down the hill
With the weight of home on him,
Milan watches, world looks on,
As the American light grows dim.
Bridge
We used to stand together
When our people touched the gold,
Now the silence after victory
Is the loudest story told,
Somewhere between the podium
And the posts that tear and burn,
There's a country watching, waiting,
Wondering when the tide will turn.
Chorus
Oh, these slopes of division,
Where the flags don't feel like ours,
One man speaks, another strikes,
From their separate towers,
Truth Social burns at midnight,
While the mountains hold their snow,
On the slopes of division,
Tell me where do we go?
Inspired by real events. Names, details, and narrative may be fictionalized.