XXXX-Day: "World Without Slack"

World Without Slack
-- Rev. Enki (with apologies to Al Stewart)
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On an evening from a bulldada movie
In a campground where they turn back time
You go strolling through the crowds of Subs (and Bobbies)
Passing the End Time

They come out of the woods in costumes running
Through the Thunderdome in the rain
Don't bother asking for explanations
They're just pagans who came
From a world without slack

At night their fire blurs your vision
And the sound of bongoes fills your ears
So you stumble as your sense of which direction
Completely disappears

Near the plywood walls of the "Four Flusher" stalls
There's a faerie grotto you step into
You drain, by mistake, your trouser snake
It's just a river running through
A world without slack

Well 7:00's here and you're still breathing
And "Bob" is nowhere to be found
You've paid your thirty dollars and reserved your ticket
But there's no Saucers around

Then the drum-beat strains of the pagan games
Greet the sunrise of a new Brushwood day
You know some X-Day you're bound to leave here
But for now you'll have to stay
In their world without slack