03-11 | The Maine Hermit: Survival, Solitude, and Stolen Pop-Tarts

bluegrass, folk, comedy (bluegrass/folk-comedy)

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V5.5

[Intro]
(Fast acoustic guitar picking and a bouncing fiddle)
(Sound of a foil wrapper crinkling) 
"Welcome to the Maine woods, where the air hurts your face!"

[Verse 1]
In nineteen eighty-six he left his car beside the street, 
Walked into the Belgrade Lakes on his own two feet! 
For twenty-seven years he never spoke a single word, 
He lived beneath a hidden tarp like a sneaky, frozen bird! 
He never lit a fire, even in the winter chill, 
'Cause he hated making small talk and he had some time to kill!

[Chorus]
(Loud, energetic group harmonies, foot-stomping)
Oh, the North Pond Ghost is coming in the night! 
He's hiding from society and staying out of sight! 
He doesn't want your jewelry, he doesn't want your gold, 
He just wants a frosted Pop-Tart 'cause it's getting mighty cold! 
Yeah, he's the ultimate introvert, a burglar in the trees, 
Living off of stolen pasta and some D-cell batteries!

[Verse 2]
(Frantic banjo solo playing underneath)
A thousand summer cabins broken into for his meals, 
A terrifying phantom who politely takes and steals! 
He needed some propane and a brand new radio, 
Maintained absolute stealth while he laid extremely low! 
He didn't want to hunt or fish, he didn't want to farm, 
He just wanted to be a felon without causing any harm!

[Bridge]
(Tempo slows down, sneaky acoustic bass line)
But Sergeant Terry Hughes knew the pattern and the crime, 
He staked out the cafeteria to finally end his time! 
In April twenty-thirteen, Chris got caught right in the act, Surrendered to the Warden, yeah, and that's a lonely fact.

[Chorus]
(Maximum energy, fast beat)
Oh, the North Pond Ghost is coming in the night! 
He's hiding from society and staying out of sight! 
He doesn't want your jewelry, he doesn't want your gold, 
He just wants a frosted Pop-Tart 'cause it's getting mighty cold! 
Yeah, he's the ultimate introvert, a burglar in the trees, 
Living off of stolen pasta and some D-cell batteries!

[Outro]
(Music suddenly stops)
He didn't show psychosis, just an allergy to chat! 
He just regretted being seen, and he told the judge just that! 
(A cappella)
So leave a box of pastries right outside your cabin door...
(Loud crunch of a dry Pop-Tart) 
And the hermit won't go bothering your summer camp no more! 
[End]

2286/7500

[Intro] (Fast acoustic guitar picking and a bouncing fiddle) (Sound of a foil wrapper crinkling) "Welcome to the Maine woods, where the air hurts your face!" [Verse 1] In nineteen eighty-six he left his car beside the street, Walked into the Belgrade Lakes on his own two feet! For twenty-seven years he never spoke a single word, He lived beneath a hidden tarp like a sneaky, frozen bird! He never lit a fire, even in the winter chill, 'Cause he hated making small talk and he had some time to kill! [Chorus] (Loud, energetic group harmonies, foot-stomping) Oh, the North Pond Ghost is coming in the night! He's hiding from society and staying out of sight! He doesn't want your jewelry, he doesn't want your gold, He just wants a frosted Pop-Tart 'cause it's getting mighty cold! Yeah, he's the ultimate introvert, a burglar in the trees, Living off of stolen pasta and some D-cell batteries! [Verse 2] (Frantic banjo solo playing underneath) A thousand summer cabins broken into for his meals, A terrifying phantom who politely takes and steals! He needed some propane and a brand new radio, Maintained absolute stealth while he laid extremely low! He didn't want to hunt or fish, he didn't want to farm, He just wanted to be a felon without causing any harm! [Bridge] (Tempo slows down, sneaky acoustic bass line) But Sergeant Terry Hughes knew the pattern and the crime, He staked out the cafeteria to finally end his time! In April twenty-thirteen, Chris got caught right in the act, Surrendered to the Warden, yeah, and that's a lonely fact. [Chorus] (Maximum energy, fast beat) Oh, the North Pond Ghost is coming in the night! He's hiding from society and staying out of sight! He doesn't want your jewelry, he doesn't want your gold, He just wants a frosted Pop-Tart 'cause it's getting mighty cold! Yeah, he's the ultimate introvert, a burglar in the trees, Living off of stolen pasta and some D-cell batteries! [Outro] (Music suddenly stops) He didn't show psychosis, just an allergy to chat! He just regretted being seen, and he told the judge just that! (A cappella) So leave a box of pastries right outside your cabin door... (Loud crunch of a dry Pop-Tart) And the hermit won't go bothering your summer camp no more! [End]

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