ELIOT RIVERS - "Jericho's Wildfire" (Official) | Eco-Apocalyptic Folk Anthem | Climate Justice Song

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Eliot Rivers unleashes "Jericho's Wildfire" - a biblical protest against ecological collapse.

In this haunting folk anthem, Rivers channels the wrath of poisoned rivers and burning skies. Drawing from the infamous Cuyahoga River fire and Fukushima disaster, the song paints a visceral portrait of:
🔥 Sacred rebellion against concrete gods of profit
🌍 Mother Earth's verdict on our disposable age
⚖️ The pale horse of Revelation galloping through oil fields

Lyrics that ignite change:
• "Worshipping a god made of profit and bleached concrete"
• "Your children cough coal, and the future's been sold"
• "The jury's the sky, and the verdict's been declared"

🎵 Genre: Apocalyptic Folk / Environmental Protest Music
🌱 Movement: Climate Justice Artistry

CREDITS:
Written by Eliot Rivers
Produced by Timeless Tales Music

📢 Amplify #ClimateLyrics movement

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JERICHO’S WILDFIRE

Well, it’s always been the earth’s way to break silence,
My right hand plants the oak while the left one drains the lake.
Where the pipeline hums and the coyote prays
To the drone of a gasoline choir.
Ash falls soft on the sunflower fields as I drift state to state,
I know why the wolves keep their eyes on the gate,
But whatever you call progress, it’s just a mask for the hate—
Jericho.
Oh, Jericho. Oh, Jericho.

The suits came with blueprints and chainsaws for teeth,
Their Bibles were ledgers, their prayers just receipts.
Worshipping a god made of profit and bleached concrete,
With the heart of a pyre.
Do I need your permission to name this crime?
If the trees keep screaming, why call it a sign?
No, I’ve heard no prayers from the Cuyahoga’s banks,
Jericho.
Oh, Jericho. Oh, Jericho.

In the valley where the rivers turned to rust,
The peaches grew tumors, and the honey turned to dust.
I was only following orders when they labeled me “unjust”
With their subpoena.
When the last wolf dies, then who’ll you accuse?
I’ve dug my hands deep, but there’s no earth left to use.
Your paradise and my wasteland wear the same worn-out shoes,
Jericho.
Oh, Jericho. Oh, Jericho.

There’s a black tide rising where the wetlands once rolled,
Your children cough coal, and the future’s been sold.
Tell me, wise man, where’s the ark for the meek and the old?
New Orleans or Fukushima?
They stole the horizon to build a mall of glass,
Now the crows hold vigils where the herons used to pass.
He’s crowned with dead satellites; she’s choking on the past,
And so are you, Jericho.
Oh, Jericho. Oh, Jericho.

I see ghosts of forests marching, roots cracked and bare,
I see the pale horse grazing where the oil rigs glare.
In Mother Earth’s name, tell me, how much more can you spare?
Just step into the wildfire.
Take the path through the ruins where the ivy reclaims,
Pass the plastic-filled whales, pass the towns without names.
Begging Time for forgiveness, but the clock’s void of blame,
Jericho.
Oh, Jericho. Oh, Jericho.

Retreat to the green that your bulldozers spared,
Pass the tree of resistance, pass the crow with wings flared.
The jury’s the sky, and the verdict’s been declared—
Jericho.
Oh, Jericho. Oh, Jericho.

Retreat to the green that your bulldozers spared,
Pass the tree of resistance, pass the crow with wings flared.
The jury’s the sky, and the verdict’s been declared—
Jericho.
Oh, Jericho. Oh, Jericho.