NO AI GENERATED SOUNDS IN THE MUSIC AT ALL

Instrumental included with no scratchwork, just laid back chill.

The AI Generated part is not the whole lyrics, but part of them. Checkate was a 2023 experiment using AI to start a song. I liked some parts. Hated others. Rewrote the heck out of it. Even this version is edited since the last version. Yes, I re-recorded new vocals for this remix.

This acapella is available over here!

———————

In a game where kings and pawns are set on the stage,
Where nuclear shadows cast, a menacing age.
From Trinity’s blast to the Cold War’s rage,
Few hands control power, history’s dark page.

The board is global, stakes are more than high,
Bishops in power suits, their gambits sly.
Queens move with grace but the threat’s nearby,
Knights in secret meetings, under a watchful spy.

Rooks stand like silos, in lines so stark,
A world braced in silence, fearing the spark.
Checkmate looms, in whispers in the dark,
A grim reminder, where humanity embarks.

Pawns march in millions, unaware of the game,
Leaders plot moves, with lives to claim.
The board’s a metaphor, for power’s aim,
To hold the world, in a balance, fragile and lame.

In this chess match, where nations collide,
Nuclear arsenal, the ultimate pride.
But in this game, there’s nowhere to hide,
When the king falls, we all take the slide.

A checkmate not just of kings, but of the soul,
Where the power to destroy, takes its toll.
A reminder of the few who control,
The fate of many, in this nuclear role.

History echoes, with each move they make,
The power to give, the power to take.
In this game of chess, with so much at stake,
We ponder our fate, with each breath we take.

———-

In this grand game, where moves are unseen,
Leaders plot strategies, behind the screen.
The pawns in the dark, about what it means,
To live under the shadow, of a nuclear regime.

From Hiroshima’s cry to the Cuban fright,
The world watched in terror holding tight.
A balance of fear in the day and the night,
Dictators dream of sparks to ignite.

Nations rise and fall, like pieces on the board,
Each move calculated, nuclear accord.
masses oblivious, to what’s in store,
As the powerful play, with what they hoard.

Bombs like bishops, moving diagonal lines,
Crossing borders, defining the times.
The rook’s straight path, a cardinal sign,
Of straight-shooting threats, in this design.

Knights jumping over, unpredictable plays,
Maneuvering crises Cold War maze.
The king and queen, in their power ways,
Manipulate the game and the world pays.

metaphor of might, where no one’s safe
Everyones loses the nuclear race
A game of shadows, where they deal,
With scars and wounds that never heal.

Each move a gamble, each decision, fate,
In this chess game, the stakes inflate.
A world held ransom, by those who rate,
Their power above all, in this checkmate.

So we watch and wait, in this tense game,
Hoping for peace, in the nuclear aim
But the power lies, in the hands of the knaves
Who control the board, to the dangerous ways

————-

As the game unfolds, the tension’s unspoken,
A silent dance of power, promises unbroken.
The world’s fate dangles, on a thread so thin,
A precarious balance, in the nuclear din.

Each nation’s move, a delicate dance,
With the aura of doom, in every glance.
The queens and kings, in a deadly trance,
Calculating risks, with a nuclear lance.

The pawns, they march, to the protest line,
Wholly aware of the grand design.
Their lives but tokens, in the power’s sign,
In this chessboard world, where destinies align.

The knights, they creep, in shadows and fears,
Maneuvering through secrets, over the years.
Their moves hidden, in the public’s tears,
As the nuclear clock, to midnight, nears.

The bishops slant, with their own creed,
Guiding the game, with their own breed.
Their influence subtle, in word and deed,
In this match of power, and insatiable greed.

The rooks stand firm, in their rigid lines,
Guarding the realms, of the power mines.
Their presence a symbol, of the ties that binds,
The world to a fate, where the sun hardly shines.

In this final verse, the message is clear,
The nuclear game, played in fear.
A metaphor for control, year after year,
Where the many are pawns, in a sphere.

So we dream of a day, when this game ends,
Where kings and queens, become friends.
Where nuclear chess, no longer sends,
Fear through the world, on which it depends.

A checkmate of peace, not of war,
Where nuclear weapons, are no more.
In this game of life, what we’re striving for,
Is a world united, not torn by the core.

The game concludes, not with a blast,
But with wisdom and love that is vast.
A future bright, not shadowed by the past,
In this chess game of life, peace at last.