Chuck of 8 Chins

[Chorus:] Chuck of 8 chins

We adore you.

What’s that sound? It’s a mouth

That runs on beer and cigarettes

You’ve been burned on our brains

So long sometimes we tend to forget

What silence is like

Unplugging the mics.

[Chorus]

Every beat, every blip

Each harmony part with air in the notes

Others give the stink eye

You get to make that noise in your throat

The sidle attack

There are no takebacks

We gnash and we groan

And you’re all alone.

[Chorus]

You’re a star like a satellite

Or a PAR can burning too long

I confess: yeah, you bring it

But only when you’re part of the song

We know how to stand around

We know how that swoop swoops down

The truth must be turned up loud

Or not allowed.

[Chorus (x2)]

© 2007 John Brocato