[Intro: guitar feedback, a car door slams far off] Hey Where you goin'? [Hook: male lead, crowd shouts the title] You left early (you left early!) Eight bars in and you was gone Wrote a eulogy in the parkin' lot (you left early!) And we ain't even played the song [Verse 1: cocky, guitars chug] Flatbed for a stage on the edge of the lot Two amps, one generator, and every song we got Front row was the purists, arms crossed, lips tight Came to see a wreck so they could write about it right Count it off, one, two, first note hit the air Looked up from the mic and saw a row of empty chairs Eight bars, little head-shake, little sigh, little huff Out to the cars to go write up how it wasn't enough [Flow switch: rapid-fire, mocking] Forty paragraphs, a thesis and a footnote, a whole dissertation off a sound check and a cough You reviewed the extension cord, the shoes, the parkin' lot, with your arms crossed so tight that it cut the fuckin' circulation off [Hook: male lead, crowd shouts the title] You left early (you left early!) Eight bars in and you was gone Wrote a eulogy in the parkin' lot (you left early!) And we ain't even played the song [Verse 2: drums heavier, the lot fills song by song] Second song, a trucker pulled in, killed his lights Third song, the night shift from the plant still in their whites Fourth song, somebody's grandma with a lawn chair and a flask Fifth song, couple hundred, and nobody had to ask Sixth song, cars on the shoulder a mile back Seventh, every tailgate open and the whole town in the back Eighth song, sheriff pulled up, killed the siren, and he stayed You was halfway home by then, writin' how it never played [Flow switch: half-time drawl, then snap back] Spelled every word right Got every word wrong Graded the intro Never heard the song [Breakdown: stop-time, guitars hit only on the words, crowd answers] You heard eight bars (eight bars!) I wrote eighty (eighty!) You saw one song (one song!) Lot saw twenty (twenty!) [Beat Switch: double-time drums, guitars wide, crowd roars] [Verse 3: double-time victory lap] Here's the thing about the ones who leave early: they're always so sure Sure about the endin' of a movie when they only saw the door Sure about a whole damn heart from the first beat of the heart Sure about a whole damn book 'cause they hated how it starts Ten years from tonight, somebody's gonna tell you 'bout a lot Flatbed, generator, how the whole county got caught And you're gonna tell your kids you was standin' in the front row You'll say you was there. You wasn't. Eight bars. Then you go [Final Hook: crowd on every word] You left early (you left early!) Eight bars in and you was gone Whole lot singin' every word (you left early!) And you still don't know the song [Outro: crowd roaring, the band kicks back in and fades into the night] Y'all still here? Good One more
