They Couldn't Play But They Sure Could Rock Poem by Mark Nichols

It's the spirit of invention
And it can make a song a horrible mess
Caterpillars are transforming
Wave your silver flags over my head!
Come out tonight in your trapezoid dress

Somewhere celestial
Where feeling meets the brain
Those of you who won't compromise
Pull your hands out of your pockets
Be in comfort leave the banja in cloudy ponds of steam
Say 'Boo' to the band from Dobryanka

Their anthem has no translation
But I'll try to get it roughly
‘We're the speck on God's eyeball
With no worry, and no hope'

There's a truck stop café
In that town that's where they play
When they're finished travelin' round
Why don't you raise your voice and call out
I'm only sorry now
That I know the way
We the forewarned we were chosen not to play

Despair is the son who tries to seize my aching heart
Even when you're with me
The definers of darkness have changed their parts

Though it may fulfill you
That's the tune and it might kill you
They couldn't play but they sure could rock

Won't you scream a happy tune
You got a one track mind like the crying loon
At first she didn't live there
Now she's drunk as she can be
And fifty just came over me

By the time I arrived I was out of breath
Took a train and it was sad
So we joke a lot in Dobryanka
Nothing much for me
When the spider bit him
It bit him bad

Now point me the way