Mushroom Town

[Spoken Intro] FATTYFOOT: We were not lost. PIP: We were beneath somewhere else. [SFX: cave drip • low wind • soft chime] [Instrumental] [Verse 1] PIP: Blue stone. Wet walls. A lantern where no hand was. FATTYFOOT: Smoke in a crack. Tea in the dark. A roof made out of mushroom caps. [Instrumental – flute and hand drum] [Verse 2] PIP: A sign swung once. An owl watched. Nobody seemed surprised by us. FATTYFOOT: Tiny stalls. Warm bowls. Coins changing hands without a sound. [Chorus] BOTH: Mushroom Town. Mushroom Town. Under the drip-light, under the stone. Mushroom Town. Mushroom Town. Turn your head, it’s gone. [Instrumental – long] [Verse 3] FATTYFOOT: Maps to places that do not stay put. Buttons. Thread. Something singing through the floorboards. PIP: One old woman smiled with all her teeth and offered me a weather folded into paper. [Instrumental – chimes, hollow drum, distant market murmur] [Verse 4] PIP: I touched a coin. The whole place listened. FATTYFOOT: The lanterns dimmed sideways. The soup forgot its steam. PIP: The sign bent inward. The street pulled thin. FATTYFOOT: Then just rock. Just damp. Just us. [Chorus] BOTH: Mushroom Town. Mushroom Town. A market in a bad idea. A window in the cave. Mushroom Town. Mushroom Town. You don’t find it. It waves. [Bridge – half spoken] PIP: Don’t bargain too hard. FATTYFOOT: Don’t ask what’s under the tables. PIP: Don’t steal. FATTYFOOT: She means it this time. [Instrumental – longest, psychedelic flute lead] [Final Chorus] BOTH: Mushroom Town. Mushroom Town. Small lights. Soft voices. No footprints by dawn. Mushroom Town. Mushroom Town. We were there. And then we weren’t. [Outro] PIP: We were not lost. FATTYFOOT: No. PIP: Worse.