Fat Bear Blues

The great fat bear played guitar all night long
Picking notes with his long nails
Dragging down the wound strings with force
And trying to sing with a bellow and wail

I was trying to sleep of course
Stuck behind walls of fall leaves within my house
Looking like a child's leaf fort after eating Alice's cake
With a crunchy rustle I opened the window ready to grouse

The noise was worse now coming in the open air
Inhaling sharply I called out crossly
"Just what in the Sam Hill are you trying to do Bear??"
In response he just seemed to try harder

I could feel the wood of the neck flex in the notes
As all 800 pounds of bear tried to play
But it still just wasn't great
It was unrhythmic and harsh all the live long day

There was just one thing to do
So open went the access to the attic
Into the spider-webbed darkness I plunged
Returning with a battered old Ludwig Junior drum kit

Gathering a few sets of sticks and tying the kit to my back with bungee
I steeled myself for a leafy assault be the front door
Sufficiently pumped up I threw the door from its hinges
Diving into the dead deciduous solar receptors with gusto and gore

Making my way to the clearing battling autumn all the way
I found the great fat bear still on his log trying to play
And he never stopped to wonder why I was there
But he stared as the drums dropped from my back
Accompanying my movements with sick notes from his axe

Set up and ready I started to pound
Until a sort of rhythm was found
Revealing a stink that was nothing but rude
That fat bear farted then fell into the groove

All night long we sawed and we hacked
Notes flying about like wood from a drunken lumberjack

But it still wasn't quite right
And we both knew it
Though we kept right on playing our fingers and paws to the bone
When just as the dawning sun started to break
Just what we needed appeared in the clearing

A cool blues gazelle carrying a silver saxophone