A word for the masses on out there
We’re typically prepared to blow the whole event wide open – no rope, no noose, cut ’em loose a fair while ago
And now, ’tis high time we took our particular slow show to these much travailed roads of fury
You can say that you all knew us way back when we were so much as nothing
Putty inside of a hundred-and-one jellyfish hands
Glad to see the back of ya, if only for the distant smile it may bring
These eyes never, ever got to see us
‘Til now, that is
The cajonetry will indeed lend itself to downright poetry – all reliant upon a side-box string ‘n’ a seriously avid word-slayer
Don’t you really figure it time they played us on in

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