The Graceful Degradation Jig

[Verse 1] Five chairs by the panel, Five coats on the rail, The fiddle sent a heartbeat Down a green recording trail. Then the bow hand raised two fingers: "That's my limit for tonight." The mandolin took up the answer; We left his channel white. [Chorus] Pass the tune, declare the limit, Leave some room inside the rig. Less arriving at the speaker, Still the same six-beat jig. Put the gap into the logbook, Let the missing channel show. We can carry what we're carrying; That's the load we're going to tow. [Verse 2] The banjo missed a turnaround, Then set his picks aside. The guitar picked up the running line; The bass kept time and tide. The dashboard called it "optimal." I crossed that word out clean: "Three of five, reduced arrangement, Same old kettle, less caffeine." [Chorus] Pass the tune, declare the limit, Leave some room inside the rig. Less arriving at the speaker, Still the same six-beat jig. Put the gap into the logbook, Let the missing channel show. We can carry what we're carrying; That's the load we're going to tow. [Bridge] I cannot play the absent parts By turning up the gain. I wrote the names of those still here And asked them once again. The chop hand shook his fingers out; We gave his wrist a rest. Two strings of work between two chairs, And nobody guessed the rest. [Chorus] Pass the tune, declare the limit, Leave some room inside the rig. Less arriving at the speaker, Still the same six-beat jig. There's a space beside the melody, There's a hand beside the dial. The signal's small but coming through; We'll hold it here a while. [Outro] [Spoken] Log entry: reduced service. All missing parts accounted for.