The Rise and Fall of Daisy Jones & The Six

They were fire, they were gold,

A band as well shinning to ever develop ancient.

Strings and keys, drums and light,

Verses spun from adore and battle.

Daisy Jones, wild and free,

A voice like smoke, crude and sweet.

As well much soul, as well much torment,

As well as running through her veins.

Billy Dunne, relentless, solid,

A pioneer who knew right from off-base.

But enticement played a evil tune,

And Daisy sparkled just like the silver moon.

The Six stood tall, side by side,

Torn between cherish, torn by pride.

Karen, Warren, Graham as well,

Eddie and Pete—each paid their due.

They made enchantment, they made acclaim,

Everybody knew their melodies by title.

But music built from adore and conflict

Can as it were final so long in life.

Drugs and dreams, desire and lament,

A melody unfinished, a destiny they met.

They burned so quick, they burned so shining,

But a few flares aren't implied for light.

And so they cleared out, strolled absent,

A band that couldn't, wouldn't remain.

But press play, and you'll still listen,

The echoes of a brilliant year.