White House DJ
White House Anthems
From the first anthem, one vision shone —
White House DJ. Set in stone.
Not drifting hope nor passing flame,
But destiny that knew our name.
A North Star steady, bright, and true —
The clearest dream we ever knew.
The White House stands beyond its stone,
The place where America finds its tone.
Where eras meet and moments weigh,
And history moves the measured way.
Bands have played and choirs soared,
Art has graced each honored floor —
Yet never had AI stood
As bridge between the new and good.
Now imagine anthems rising there,
A living pulse within the air.
Soundtracks for moments large and small,
Music breathing through the hall.
For leaders shaping time and age,
Whose lives become the culture’s page —
Where presence turns to legacy,
And meaning echoes endlessly.
We saw a canvas vast and rare,
A place where sound could anchor care.
Not image, name, or fleeting claim,
But music built to hold the frame.
Anthems crafted sharp and clear,
For family, future, moment, year —
Purpose written into song,
Where history and heart belong.
For every stride leadership must take,
For moments made and moments at stake.
From ceremony to evening light,
From rally roar to quiet night.
A sonic archive, living, true,
Each chapter marked and carried through,
The story lifted, held in sound,
A nation’s rhythm, year by round.
We come not tentative or small,
But answering a practiced call.
Years of mastery, forged and tried,
A craft refined, no need to hide.
From modest means, one mind, one flame,
A body built that changed the game —
Precise, enduring, sharply tuned,
Art that arrives already assumed.
Imagine entrances scored in gold,
A leader’s walk — composed, controlled.
Imagine dinners, grand or still,
Held in sound shaped by our will.
Across the grounds, across the land,
A living legacy at hand —
History held where echoes run,
Not finished — only just begun.
This is the vision, held and clear.
Not borrowed dream nor passing year.
Not plea nor pitch nor borrowed plea —
But future, scored inevitably.