Used to listen in the square,
But the music's gone dry.
Them songs have gone away,
Down on Brattle to stay,
Singing, "This'll be the day that they died."
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(Apologies to Don McLean.)
Dissent
Now, for ten days we've been on our own,
And Luke plays by himself at home,
Like the way it ought to be.
His noise pollution shook the Square,
The same damn tunes would fill the air
Till help came in the form of HRE-eeee!
Cause while old Luke was out of town
They stole his axe and killed his sound
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