| THIS IS HOW THE STORY GOES:
|
| 'Tween four fellas playing bacci ball
|
| And suddenly a bolt of lightning struck down
|
| It was stunning the way they separated
|
| And all the atoms fell just like confetti
|
| But somehow found their way up to heaven
|
| Called the ghost out, our father spinning around and around
|
| How captivating they wound about each other
|
| Just like a little wedding
|
| And the head spectre said please get yourselves together
|
| But the problem with the particles is they can’t remember
|
| Who is who — am I you? |
| or are there two of us together
|
| Or am I, am I me forever?
|
| And the one that was a part of bob’s hand said «understand
|
| I am done being held down by this man» then he ran
|
| Last winter, I heard he was living in the wind pipe of a famous opera singer
|
| And another one fell down and found himself inside a cannon
|
| Part of a daredevil’s heart no one’s sure of where he landed
|
| But the moment of the shot the crowd
|
| All got the chills I still swear that I can feel it
|
| And another
|
| Now a drummers arm they say hes outta work
|
| And is now a little lonely poorly store clerk
|
| But I know he’ll be back have you heard the way he used to hit The high hat
|
| How he hit the high hat, hit the high hat … |