That gave me a bad idea to feed to the right AI:

An idyllic open prairie, with swarming butterflies

Every chair of the Federal Reserve, from inception to present, holding hands. Mile-wide smiles and shiny teeth, breeze blown hair and dragonflies, and a few actual flies

They traipse (stop motion style, Primus style) through fields of vibrant tulips, as far as an eyeball can see

In the background, a Sinatra-esque voice, with intermittent tones of Nick Cave and dissonant interruptions of Les Claypool sings Tiptoe Through the Tulips, with a scintillating chorus of mewing female voices

The wake of trampled flowers spells the national debt.

A storm brewing in the background.

Next Up: Come to Daddy, by AphexTwin