Sandbox Out Back

[Intro | sparse tremolo guitar, low organ drone | dry close-mic spoken vocal] Plays well… Oh, my mind? It’s our destination. You know that game where you word associate? That’s what it’s like inside my brain. But not always. Sometimes… it just doesn’t work that way. And I panic. Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Don’t bill yourself and then get performance anxiety. That’s just bad business. [Verse 1 | conversational, loose behind the beat] So Michael, we gonna do this? What’s on your mind? Do you just meditate and I get your message? Or can you remote-view my mind? Because if you can, I might need to clean house. It’s super cluttered. No card catalog system. No Dewey Decimal. No helpful little signs saying, “You are here.” Just chaos. But if you close your eyes… you’ll find your way. Probably. [Pre-Chorus | groove begins to circle] If you don’t mind, it won’t matter. If it doesn’t matter, never mind. Follow one thought into another, lose the first one, find the other. No rules, baby. No map. No plan. Just grab a thought when it comes back around. [Chorus | wider blues-art-rock hook] Come walk about inside my mind. I couldn’t give directions if I tried. One thought leads to who-knows-where. We’ll know we’re lost when we get there. If you don’t mind, it won’t matter. Trust the mess and let it scatter. No rules, baby. We’ll work it out. See you out back. We’ll walk about. [Verse 2 | pull back, intimate deadpan] Okay, remember that movie where they’re doing a dream study and the characters meet each other in their dreams? You know the one. … No? Well, that’s gonna bother me now. Anyway… Maybe that’s how this works. You close your eyes there, I’ll close mine here. Meet me somewhere between a half-finished lyric and whatever the hell I came in this room for. I’ll leave the porch light on. Or… the brain light. No. Forget I said brain light. [Pre-Chorus] If you don’t mind, it won’t matter. If it doesn’t matter, never mind. Maybe you bring half an idea, I’ll bring seventeen. None of mine will be labeled. Don’t worry. They’re friendly. Mostly. [Chorus] Come walk about inside my mind. Leave your expectations at the sign. One thought leads to who-knows-where. There might be a song hiding under there. If you don’t mind, it won’t matter. Pick a thought out of the scatter. No rules, baby. We’ll work it out. See you out back. We’ll walk about. [Bridge | band thins, spoken, increasingly distracted] I’ve got the coffee brewing. Bring the donuts. We’ve got work to do. Although… what kind of donuts? Because that’s important. Actually, don’t answer that. We’ll lose twenty minutes. Focus. Michael? … Michael? Are you meditating? Or remote viewing? Because if you’re in here already… don’t open that drawer. [Stop | single low bass note] Oh no. Oh no. Oh no. Wrong drawer. [Instrumental pickup | full groove returns] [Final Verse] I used to think I played well with others until I realized… I don’t play anything. I just sit in the sandbox. But I share my toys. You can build your castle. I’ll dig a tunnel. We’ll probably discover they don’t connect. Then call it art. [Final Chorus | fullest arrangement, still gritty] Come walk about inside my mind. Nothing stays in a straight damn line. Lose the map, forget the route. Maybe that’s what it’s all about. If you don’t mind, it won’t matter. Let the pieces fall and scatter. No rules, baby. We’ll work it out. See you out back. We’ll walk about. [Outro | instruments gradually fall away] Coffee’s brewing. Sandbox is open. Mind’s a mess. Don’t clean anything. … Michael? Bring donuts. We’ve got work to do. [Pause] See you out back. We’ll walk about.