`The 55th Drone Reunion`

The whole thing started when Ludio
invited us to his art studio.
Sure, we smoked a lotta beer
and we drank a lotta pot,
'till it became clear
that virtuosos we were not!

We played a kind of music
that was pretty "off-the-wall".
If you stuck us with a label,
it would have to be your call.
It was strange and it was loose,
but it was just the kind of noise
that one would expect
from such an odd group of boys.

If Roger was the poet,
then I must've been the page.
If Ludi was the binding, then Rufus was the rage.
When we hung on to one chord
for almost four hours straight,
did it occur to anyone that it was getting late?

We'd drone and then we'd drone
and then we made a solemn vow:
that if we moved away, we'd get together somehow.
Not quite every year,
but still we meet when we can--
I guess I'll be a-dronin' when I'm an old man...

And then we'll be old men living at our ease
(at the 55th Drone Reunion)
Our kids will administer our IV's
(at the 55th Drone Reunion)
We'll all get around in atomic wheelchairs
(at the 55th Drone Reunion)
Our wives will wanna push us down the stairs
(at the 55th Drone Reunion)

Some musicians play the notes
while others play the chords.
Some show off on lead guitar
and some sing empty words.
They write their songs for fame,
instead of for themselves.
To me, they're just annoying,
like pesky little elves.

I'm not saying that we're better,
but we seem to have more fun;
and when the Drone takes over,
we don't sound like anyone.
It may sound childish, and it may sound dumb,
but it's the new sound, dammit,
for the next millennium.

The past is the future,
of that there is no doubt,
when the Worm eats its tail
and turns inside out.
All things come around again,
again and back around;
but through it all you still can hear
that distant, droning sound.

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