Klingon in a Bluegrass Band

[Spoken Intro] One, two— No, Gene, the banjo goes on this planet. Alright. Wasi River Bluegrass. Let’s make first contact. [Verse 1] He came down the lane in a borrowed old truck, With a case full of strings and a whole lotta luck, Had boots on wrong and a forehead proud, Walked into the jam like a thundercloud. The mandolin blinked, the fiddle went flat, The bass player whispered, “What species is that?” He said, “I heard there was honour in a three-chord stand,” But that boy stuck out like a Klingon in a bluegrass band. [Female Response] Like a Klingon in a bluegrass band. [Verse 2] He tried to two-step with a warrior’s stance, Made a bat’leth motion in a square-dance trance, Sang “Qapla’” on the downbeat, stomped through the floor, Then asked if the banjo had a disruptor core. The old men laughed by the coffee urn, Said, “Son, there’s a few things you’re gonna have to learn, You can’t conquer rhythm with a battle plan, But you can bleed a little truth through a five-string hand.” [Chorus] That boy stuck out like a Klingon in a bluegrass band, Too much forehead, not enough tan, Couldn’t tell a reel from a final stand, But he played like thunder when he found his hand. He didn’t fit the song, He didn’t know the land, But he brought that fire To the riverbank jam. That boy stuck out— That boy stuck out— That boy stuck out like a Klingon in a bluegrass band. [Verse 3] Now the dobro hummed like a warp drive whine, And the washboard clicked in double time, The fiddle took orbit, the banjo spun, And the whole damn barn went around the sun. He missed the verse but he nailed the pain, Sang about exile in the northern rain, About home being far and grief being grand, And suddenly he fit in that bluegrass band. [Female Response] Suddenly he fit in that bluegrass band. [Bridge] Some folks hide in the back of the room, Some folks howl at the harvest moon, Some folks carry a quiet scar, Some folks arrive from a different star. You can laugh at the boots, You can laugh at the brow, But the song don’t care where you come from now, If your heart hits true and your timing lands, There’s a chair for a Klingon in a bluegrass band. [Breakdown] Banjo! Fiddle! Bass! Somebody explain the spoons to him! [Call and Response] Male: Who brought honour to the jam tonight? Female: That boy did! Male: Who scared the mandolin half to death? Female: That boy did! Male: Who yelled Qapla’ at the pie table? Female: That boy did! Male: Who found the pocket by the second chorus? Female: That boy did! [Final Chorus] That boy stuck out like a Klingon in a bluegrass band, Too much forehead, not enough tan, Couldn’t tell a reel from a final stand, But he played like thunder when he found his hand. He didn’t fit the song, He didn’t know the land, But he brought that fire To the riverbank jam. That boy stuck out— That boy stuck out— That boy stuck out like a Klingon in a bluegrass band. [Outro] Now every Friday by the Wasi shore, There’s a banjo ringing and a warrior’s roar, And if you hear Qapla’ when the chorus lands, That’s just first contact with a bluegrass band. [Gang Shout] Qapla’!