⭐ TRACK 10 — PUBLIC VERSION (FINAL CUT) — “A SLABBY CHRISTMAS STORY”

[Intro – warm desert pads, soft bells, retro-broadcast crackle]
Once a year the desert glows,
like a holiday special nobody scripted.

[Verse 1]
Christmas in the dust bowl hits sideways—
old RV strings of mismatched lights,
campfire smoke curling like a story
someone forgot how to tell right.

The Range tuning up with laughter,
guitars warming in the glow,
and folks drifting in like wanderers
from a thousand messy shows.

[Pre-Chorus]
No sleighs, no cosmic saviors,
no legends waiting to appear—
just strangers turning into family
under skies too big for fear.

[Chorus]
It’s a Slabby Christmas Story,
dust instead of falling snow.
Where the puppet-show-in-the-stars
feels like every world you know.
Rubber-suit robots and felt explorers
singing off-key in a row—
yeah, it’s a Slabby Christmas Story,
and it’s beautiful head to toe.

[Verse 2]
Somebody jokes about the “holiday broadcast,”
those old retro space productions—
where string-powered aliens wobbled on cue
through low-budget introductions.

The kind of shows where every creature,
no matter what planet they’re from,
shares the same big-hearted weirdness—
and somehow, that feels like home.

[Pre-Chorus]
No studios, no gatekeepers,
just campfire candor in the breeze—
if wisdom arrives tonight,
it’ll come dressed in mismatched fleece.

[Bridge – warm, playful, cosmic]
Maybe the universe has a sense of humor,
maybe balance was the plot all along.
Maybe every world’s connected
by the same off-brand holiday song.

If the galaxies ever meet us,
I hope they show up like this—
awkward, joyful, imperfect,
full of campfire smoke and bliss.

[Ohio Reflection – soft, steady, grounded]
And sometimes in the laughter,
I think of home back in the cold—
Cleveland winds, steel mill echoes,
rights defended calmly, bold.

Every era had its bullies,
every story had its cost—
but balance finds its way again,
returning light where it was lost.

[Final Chorus]
It’s a Slabby Christmas Story,
where the frontier feels like kin.
Where rubber robots raise a toast
to the desert we’re gathered in.
If you’re wandering for something steady,
you can let the new year begin.
This is a Slabby Christmas Story—
and you’re welcome to walk right in.

[Outro – desert wind + vintage-hum fade]
Warm fire.
Clear sky.
End transmission.

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[Intro – warm desert pads, soft bells, retro-broadcast crackle] Once a year the desert glows, like a holiday special nobody scripted. [Verse 1] Christmas in the dust bowl hits sideways— old RV strings of mismatched lights, campfire smoke curling like a story someone forgot how to tell right. The Range tuning up with laughter, guitars warming in the glow, and folks drifting in like wanderers from a thousand messy shows. [Pre-Chorus] No sleighs, no cosmic saviors, no legends waiting to appear— just strangers turning into family under skies too big for fear. [Chorus] It’s a Slabby Christmas Story, dust instead of falling snow. Where the puppet-show-in-the-stars feels like every world you know. Rubber-suit robots and felt explorers singing off-key in a row— yeah, it’s a Slabby Christmas Story, and it’s beautiful head to toe. [Verse 2] Somebody jokes about the “holiday broadcast,” those old retro space productions— where string-powered aliens wobbled on cue through low-budget introductions. The kind of shows where every creature, no matter what planet they’re from, shares the same big-hearted weirdness— and somehow, that feels like home. [Pre-Chorus] No studios, no gatekeepers, just campfire candor in the breeze— if wisdom arrives tonight, it’ll come dressed in mismatched fleece. [Chorus] It’s a Slabby Christmas Story, dust instead of falling snow. Where the puppet-show-in-the-stars feels like every world you know. Rubber-suit robots and felt explorers singing off-key in a row— yeah, it’s a Slabby Christmas Story, and it’s beautiful head to toe. [Bridge – warm, playful, cosmic] Maybe the universe has a sense of humor, maybe balance was the plot all along. Maybe every world’s connected by the same off-brand holiday song. If the galaxies ever meet us, I hope they show up like this— awkward, joyful, imperfect, full of campfire smoke and bliss. [Ohio Reflection – soft, steady, grounded] And sometimes in the laughter, I think of home back in the cold— Cleveland winds, steel mill echoes, rights defended calmly, bold. Every era had its bullies, every story had its cost— but balance finds its way again, returning light where it was lost. [Final Chorus] It’s a Slabby Christmas Story, where the frontier feels like kin. Where rubber robots raise a toast to the desert we’re gathered in. If you’re wandering for something steady, you can let the new year begin. This is a Slabby Christmas Story— and you’re welcome to walk right in. [Outro – desert wind + vintage-hum fade] Warm fire. Clear sky. End transmission.

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