It floats through the air with the greatest of ease
That odd looking symphony adrift on the breeze
The size seems to be changing from day to day
But this inconsistency is consistent, so what the hey
Father and son are locked in an embrace
Well, the father anyway, with the kids face.
The maestro, he does sorely wax wroth
In layman’s terms, he’s really pissed off
Is it that the Strad is gone, or the price that was paid
Or maybe it’s just that he really needs to get
The father, his utterance a threat
The son, his pants he does wet
What will be the errant sons fate
Will he live or become the late?
It floats through the air with the greatest of ease That odd looking symphony adrift on the breeze The size seems to be changing from day to day But this inconsistency is consistent, so what the hey Father and son are locked in an embrace Well, the father anyway, with the kids face. The maestro, he does sorely wax wroth In layman’s terms, he’s really pissed off Is it that the Strad is gone, or the price that was paid Or maybe it’s just that he really needs to get The father, his utterance a threat The son, his pants he does wet What will be the errant sons fate Will he live or become the late?