The hop, the hop, the horrible hop
The curse of the beats that never stop
The ghost of Daniel Boone’s coon cap
Is rooting in your garbage and stealing your crap
You just lay down any crazy thing
It’s the only way it seems to seize the big brass ring
a metaphor I fear is used already
but I’ll steer it to dock if my hands stay steady
Throw your hands up let it all flow
let it all dangle and dabble and grow
the gold is always hidden in the ore
that’s what this crazy machine is for
Two by two by two is eight
no matter how I slice it it all sounds great
probably not top ten, probably not a hit
but even you have to admit you can dance to it
So that’s how it started, beginning of the end
It yet might navigate an unexpected bend
Still I’ll keep quiet and let it be
the hop and the stop and the one two three
What is the song of the day?
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