Number Twelve

This track was born from a real headline: Paktyawal as the 12th person to die in ICE custody in 2026, and the systemic pattern of deaths in immigration detention. Muckraker's rock production gives the story the weight of a front-page exclusive — journalism you can feel in your chest. Lines like "Number twelve is why I'm screaming and I'm never gonna sleep," anchor the track in specifics that generic coverage misses. The mood — furious, anthemic, confrontational — reflects the emotional reality behind the numbers. Every Majik's Studio news track exists to make you feel the story, not just read it.

[verse 1] Number one in January, frozen in a cell, Number two was February, no one heard him yell, Number three they said was suicide, the camera wasn't on, Number four had chest pains for eleven hours long, Number five was twenty-three, she had a baby due in spring, Number six they deported dead, didn't notify a thing, Number seven asked for water, got a body bag instead, Number eight they found at morning check already cold and dead, Number nine the lawyer fought for but the judge said denied, Number ten had served the military, same way Paktyawal died, Number eleven was a mother pulled from church on Easter week, Number twelve is why I'm screaming and I'm never gonna sleep, Because number twelve was Paktyawal and he fought for this ground, And they put him in a concrete box and never made a sound, Twelve bodies in three months, America, do the math, That's one death every seven days along the aftermath. [chorus] How many more? How many more? You keep on stacking bodies on the jailhouse floor, How many more? How many more? Thirteen, fourteen, what are we keeping score? How many more? How many more? Say their names until your throat is raw and sore. [verse 2] They call it immigration enforcement, keeping borders tight, But Paktyawal had paperwork and medals from the fight, He didn't cross the border in the darkness of the night, He flew in on a military plane in broad daylight, The government that armed him is the government that killed him, The country that he bled for is the country that would still him, In a cell without a window, without counsel, without care, Without his six children who keep looking everywhere, The politicians tweet condolences from leather chairs, The pundits argue policy while families climb the stairs, To empty bedrooms, empty closets, shoes he'll never wear, A Purple Heart inside a drawer that nobody repairs, So line them up, the numbers, write them on the prison wall, One through twelve and counting, watch the dominoes all fall, Because history is watching and the ledger's keeping track, Of every single body and they're never coming back. [chorus] How many more? How many more? You keep on stacking bodies on the jailhouse floor, How many more? How many more? Thirteen, fourteen, what are we keeping score? How many more? How many more? Say their names until your throat is raw and sore. [bridge] I want the names on monuments, I want the names in lights, I want the names read out in Congress on a Thursday night, I want the warden answering for every single death, I want accountability for every stolen breath, Paktyawal, say his name, he deserved a better end, Than dying in a cage inside the country he'd defend, Number twelve, but not the last, and that's what breaks my heart, We'll be here screaming thirteen when the next one falls apart. [chorus] How many more? How many more? You keep on stacking bodies on the jailhouse floor, How many more? How many more? Thirteen, fourteen, what are we keeping score? How many more? How many more? Say their names until your throat is raw and sore. [outro] How many more? How many more? Paktyawal, number twelve, How many more? Say his name, How many more?