"That's How Every Empire Falls" was written by R.B. Morris, but showcased by John Prine. In these times, I can't help thinking about it all the time.
He toasts his wife and all his family, the providence he brought to bear
They raise their glasses in his honor although this union they don’t share
A man who lives among them was still a stranger to them all
For when the heart is never open, That’s how every empire falls,
Padlock the door and board the windows, put the people in the street
“It’s just my job,” he says, “I’m sorry,” and draws a check, goes home to eat
At night he tells his woman, “I know I hide behind the laws”
She says, “You’re only taking orders”: That’s how every empire falls
A bitter wind blows through the country, a hard rain falls on the sea
If terror comes without a warning, there must be something we don’t see
What fire begets this fire, like torches thrown into the straw?
If no one asks, then no one answers: That’s how every empire falls.
