How loud the growl

Before the tide turns

And they line up

To get mad

And they line up

To moan

But wait a beat

A short beat

And all they

Every one of them

Stand on up

Rise on up

And perform

A grand show

And all of them know

But will never say

It was the note

It was the words

That were chosen

To say what had

To be said

Just in time

So that simply

Mediocre work

Wouldn’t erode

The baby culture

Ah well

He was a mean king

Til he died

And left us all

But then

As people recalled

He wasn’t so bad