at the drop of a hatnthey shut the book house downnhollered on through the galenand turned the ship aroundndamn this place on our handsnthe Gothic stadiumnbuilt in half a day, painted greynwhere the trenches laynntook the convention trailnthe hot revivalistntagged along on the tailn'til he grew tired of thisnspun the language of lucknthen all the luck ran drynseldom seen aboutncuckoo's outncuckoo's outn