At the drop of a hat
They shut the book house down
Hollered on through the gale
And turned the ship around

Damn this space on our hands
The Gothic stadium
Built in half a day, painted grey
Where the trenches lay

Took the convention trail
The hot revivalist
Tagged along on the tail
'Til he grew tired of this

Spoke the language of luck
Then all the luck ran dry
Seldom seen around
Cuckoo's out, cuckoo's out