Le Show; April 02, 2023

From deep inside your audio device of choice. Ladies and gentlemen, for the night's performance, the role of Christopher Guest will be played by Michael McKean. The role of Michael McKean will be played by Harry Scherer. And now, please welcome Unwigden Unplugged. Oh! They want to hear something in the key of C. Here's the Falksman's first hit. They're only hit. Whenever I'm out of wonder, it kicks in a rainbow dream. I often stop and think about a place I've never seen. Where friendly folks can gather and raise the raptors' eyes. With songs and tales of yesterday, until they say goodbye. Oh, well, there's a pub in the park. Oh, well, there's a pub in the park that is killing on the stove. And a smelly old blanket that didn't have a whole hope.

There's chicken on the table, but you got to save waste. There's always something cooking at old Joe's base. Now, folks come by around evening time. Soon as the sun goes down, some drop in from right next door and some from out of town. Pick it up. Oh, well, there's a pub in the park that is killing on the stove. And a smelly old blanket that didn't have a whole hope. There's popcorn in the popper and a poker in the pop. There's pie in the bedroom and coffee's always hot. There's chicken on the table, but you got to save waste. There's always something cooking at old Joe's base. There's always something cooking at old Joe's base. Now, they don't allow no frowns inside, they even buy the door. There's apple brandy by the cake. And so don't stop the floor, you're soon. So if you've got a hanker in, I'll tell you where to go.

Just look for the busted neon sign that flashes. E-A. Oh, you've been there. Oh, well, there's a pub. And a smelly old blanket that didn't have a whole hope. There's popcorn in the popper and a poker in the pop. There's pie in the bedroom and coffee's always hot. There's sausage in the morning and a party every night. There's a nurse's on duty if you don't feel right today. It's chicken on the table, but you got to save your food. There's always something cooking at old Joe's base. Good. Thank you so much. Thank you very much. It doesn't matter what you call it. Millwalking, Brew City, Cream City. Gateway to Racine. We're only in your town for one night, but we always have a great time in this city.

We are the wandering kind, after all. And it's from now. We're on our way down the road. Who knows where? Well, we know where, actually. We're not telling you. Like I say, we are the wandering kind. There's two types of wandering kind, though. There's the one. The guy who gets two types of wandering. There are. There are two types of wandering. Thank you, Chris. Thank you for that correction. There's the guy who gets the wanderlust very early in life. And the minute he can, he's out the door. And there's the other kind who sits on it. Let's it kind of fester. This is about one of those that's called, never did no wanderlust. One, two, three. One, two, three. One, two, three. My mother was the cold north wind. My daddy was the sun of a river. My mother was the cold north wind. My daddy was the sun of a railroad man

from west to hell, where the trains don't even run. Never heard the whistle of a southbound freight for the singing of his driving wheel. No, I had never did no wanderlust. Never did no wanderlust. Never did no wanderlust after all. They say the highway is just one big road and it goes from here to there. And they say you carry a heavy load when you're rolling down the line somewhere. Never seen the dance of the telephone poles because they go missing by and away. Never did no wanderlust. Never did no wanderlust.

Never did no wanderlust after all. Never did no wanderlust. I never did no wanderlust. A sailor's life is a life for him. Never was for me. And I've never sawed where the hog might saw. Or see what the hog might see. Never hiked to heaven on a mountain trail. Never rode on a river's rig. Never did no wanderlust. Sorry, I had to see that. Never did no wanderlust. Never did no wanderlust after all.

Never did no wanderlust. Never did no wanderlust. Never did no wanderlust after all. Never did no wanderlust after all. Thank you very much. Thank you. That was a song by the folksman. Hopefully, there are some folks from fans here tonight. Good to know. This next song, though, this is the work of a very different kind of songwriter, gentlemen by the name of Nigel Tuffnell. This is from a solo project of Nigel's.

I guess you'd say it's from Nigel's middle period. Kind of from his later blue period, I think most curators. With traces of teal. This song that Nigel wrote was originally entitled Com Caravan. That was the name of, thank you, it was the name of the song. But when it landed on the record jacket, it said Clam Caravan. It was a typo. And I don't think Nigel noticed, actually, or... Never said anything. Or said anything or cared. Well, he was a typo, so... He'll be so negative. Here it is. One, two, three, and now. A ride across the desert on my camel over hills of sand.

What's that I see in the distance? Only hills of sand, hills of sand. Yes, no, he's us in sight. I'll have to ride in the night. I'm too late back dead by light of dawn. The sun's not your friend in the desert. Like he is at home. Is at home. The wind has a name in the desert. Shut up. But it's barely known. Rarely known.

Suddenly the heart is blue. That can blossom and dark is cartoon. So I will just stay in my room tonight. The sun's not your friend in the desert. I'll have to ride in the night. I'll have to ride in the night. I'll have to ride in the night. I'll have to ride in the night.

I'll have to ride in the night. I'll have to ride in the night. I'll have to ride in the night. Christopher Gas, thank you. Most people who play that instrument practice circular breathing Chris is the master of triangular breathing. The desert isn't free with her secrets. She's a silent bird. Quiet bird. I asked the swinks for the utter. It said mum's a word. Bound the birds. I'll take those ends of our train. And I'll sleep till I'm waking by rain. And I'm back in Old England again. Once more. I'll have to ride in the night.

I'll have to ride in the night. Thank you. Thanks very much. Every song we performed tonight, we, the three of us, written in some combination or another under some various aliases. Except for the following. This is our one cover. It was written by a pair of guys who have gone under the names of the glimmer twins and Nanker, Felge, and most unlikely of all, Jagger and Richards. Just in fairness, this isn't our cover. The folks must cover. We're covering them. One, two, three. Okay. Music Dave Starmia.

Starmia. Dave Starmia. Dave Starmia. Bull neighbor style. Dave Starmia. Starmia. Dave Starmia. Dave Starmia. Bull neighbor style. I've been running hard. I've been thinking going to blow my top. Dave Starmia. Starmia. Starmia. Dave Starmia. Bull neighbor style. You make a grown man cry. Cry. You make a grown man cry. Cry. You make a grown man cry. Spread out the oil, look gasoline. I write school. She's a pleated sheep. Go and start it up. Go on the start of giving all you got. I can't compete. You can be where the riders and the other heat. You can rough it up. Rough it up. Maybe I like it. You can slide it up. What's that? Slot it up. You make a grown man cry. You make a grown man cry. You make a grown man cry. I lay my lips grow green. My hands are greasy.

She's a me. She. Dave Starmia. Start it up. Dave Starmia. Stay. Dave Starmia. Starmia ST sour. Dave Starmia. These are Dave Starmia. These are Dave Starmia. These are Dave Starmia, Starmia, Starmia, I've runnin'ops. Runnin'ops. Runnin'ops. That's gotta be thinkin' gone on time. Dave Starmia. stayin'amus, don't be thinkin' strong. Where the hell are you? Stephen Austin is here. David himself heads through Branagh. Louder. Come. You make a dead man. Come. Come. Come. You make a dead man, come. Come. You make a dead man, come.

Everybody. You make a dead man, come. Come. Come. 1957, Elvis Presley, the reigning king of rock and roll, went into the army, and the record industry panicked. They thought rock and roll was dead. It was finished. It was washed up. They had to replace it with something. So they went sniffing around for something to replace it with. Mambaue records, show tunes, novelty songs. They tried everything. What did they end up doing? Well, they ended up going to the last Refuge of a Scoundrel, which is Calypso music. A very, very bright man named Harry Belafonte, a New Yorker, went down to the West Indies, came back with a phenomenal hit record, number one record called the banana boat song. You still hear that at ball parks and arenas at this very day. That's the banana boat song. There you go. That's not the whole song, though. That is the whole song. I think we've heard the whole song right here. Yeah. And they figured if one genius went down there and came up with a number one, maybe they could send a bunch of really lame white guys down there, and they'd come up with four or five number sevens, you know?

Close enough. The math works. Those guys was a member of the folksman. Mark, now, Marta, Shubb. Yeah? It's a long story. Anyway, I think they've heard it. But Mark came back from the islands with the idea for a song, which was kind of a comical view of the kooky side of island life, and your challenge during the song should you choose to accept it and try to figure out what possible island this could be. The song is called Look Command. One, two, three, four. This is the story of a little island where everybody's just a little bit crazy. But there's this one fella he stand out a mile because he's crazier than most. What's his name again?

Oh, I remember now. Look Command. Watching old fish swim away. He no word, he just sleep and play. Said in here on the sand. Yeah, that's the fella I'm talking about. Everybody now. Sunnyland. Gopin' a combing down all the time. Look out below. Dude, she's sweeter than honey, wifey, honey, wifey. Said in here on the sand. Yeah, he's a Look Command. That's the spot I say. Look Command. Crazy, but he got a plan. Do you need Joe? Cause he got me. Yeah, he look like ice. Go, go, go, go, look Command. Sit with me, want to sweat. It's a good old sheep. Get it west, do get it west. Sit in here on the sand. How low do he he's pretty local?

Crazy, but he got a plan. He just sleep. Cause he got me. Yeah, he look like ice. Go, go, go, look Command. Sit in sand when he want to sweat. Go, he just sleep. Cause he got me. Yeah, he look like ice. Go, go, go, look Command. Sit in sand when he want to sweat. Go, he knows you do. Get it west, do get it west. Sit in here on the sand. What do we do now? Sit in here on the sand.

What's his name? Sit in here on the sand. And check his ID now. Look Command. Thank you. Thank you, Mark. Thank you, Marta. Thank you, Harry. From New Orleans, Louisiana. This is La Show. For those of you that don't know, Korki St. Clair was the artistic director in Blaine, Missouri. Yeah. How many people here from Blaine, Missouri tonight? Anyone here from Blaine? And Blaine, in some sense. They put on a show called, or Korki put on a show called, Red, White, and Blaine, which was celebrating this espacentennial of the town of Blaine. And Blaine went through a series of unfortunate occurrences. One was a terrible flood. A very traumatic incident in the town's history. And a song was written about it called, this bulging river. That was the name. And it was in the show. But it made Korki very sad. It made Korki cry, actually.

And we're using mouthwash. We made Korki cry. That's true. Quarter Roy made him cry. And so he decided not to use it in the show, but we're going to sing it for you this evening. Woo! Phew! The child don't know what she's saying. River don't get mean like a main. Or least wise, that's what I'm praying. Don't want the water raging wild like an angry man can. This bulging river, these green and bountiful banks, for which we give humble thanks but come a star.

This bulging river, this dark and menacing demon. Lord, won't you help me to keep my family dry and warm? A farmer's life is at tougher. Some a corn don't grow on its own. Whipcracken, oxen, a puffin' and then the water picks us clean as a chicken leg bowl. This bulging river, I've seen it break on man's heart and here is a world apart but truth be told.

This bulging river, as big and bad as it be. Lord must love something so free to let it get sold. To let this bulging river get sold. This bulging river, beneath the harlequin stars. The land will long bear the scars of each new flood. This bulging river, it's God and devil in one. There it a fake and bitter rivers in our blood. This deep and bulging river, in our blood.

Thank you. Thank you very much. So ladies and gentlemen, as the MTV story indicates, we have had some run-ins with the forces of enforced virtue in our careers. Another example comes in the year 1984, after the film This Is Spiral Tap had completed its theatrical run. Those were the day. More of a brief power walk actually than a run. Anyway, at that point, the good people at NBC, by which I mean the people in NBC, thought it might be a fine idea to broadcast the film This Is Spiral Tap, and it's entirety one Saturday evening at 11.30

in lieu of a fine Saturday night live rerun. By which you mean Saturday night live rerun. But before they could do that, they had to go through a little network process. Yeah, well, they had to send it to the censors, but they don't call them the censors. The department of standards and practices. That's right. Now, why do they call it that? Well, my theory is because they have no standards and allow no practices. Good theory. On the head of this department at that time, and for many years before, and many years after, was a man with a name we couldn't have made up. Charles Dickens couldn't even have made this name up. Bill Plotworthy. Real name. And these are Bill Plotworthy's actual notes to these are the suggested edits to make the film palatable for 11.30 p.m. showing on the Saturday night 1984. We're going to read them for you. verbatim. And we would like just a little appropriate music as background for this. Oh, that's perfect.

It's brought you to the afternoon of a clock, worthy. Classification. Spoof Documentary. Synopsis. Documentary filmmaker follows a rock band on tour. Preliminary edits. Eight minutes into the film. F***ing limies. Twelve minutes in. The following lyrics in big bottom are unacceptable. My baby fits me like a tight tuxedo. I love to sink her with my pink torpedo. My love guns loaded and she's in my sights. Big games waiting there inside her tights. Twelve minutes, forty seconds. S*** Sandwich. Paula Dean pans out there.

Eighteen minutes and thirty seconds. Armadillos in our trousers. Twenty four thirty twisted old fruit. Forty three thirty. Business with crotch and cucumber. Just a technical note, it's a zucchini. Forty seven minutes and thirty seconds. I f***ed up. Three times. Kick my ass. Four times. Forty eight minutes sniffing business. I've no idea. Fifty four thirty f***ing napkin. Sixty three minutes. Quantity of f***ing and scene in recording studio. Sixty six minutes.

The lyrics of sex farm are unacceptable. Sixty nine minutes. Rocket fuel parenthesis. Reference as drug closed parenthesis. Seventy two minutes. The following lyrics of tonight I'm going to rock you tonight are unacceptable. Your s*** and I'm s***. You're hot. You take all we got. Not a dry seed in the house. 81 minutes. Sex and drugs and rock and roll. Which how he cleans it up. 82 minutes. Sex and drugs. The wisdom of Bill Klotworthy. Thank you, Bill. Thank you very much. From the Minnesota Klotworthy. Of course. I've often yearned to see his version of the film in a theater. Because you'd be home in half an hour.

You know. Wouldn't have to worry about parking or anything. Here is the first song ever written by Nigel Tuftal and David Centubbins. Yes. Thank you. This goes back away. This goes way back. We're living in Squatney. Which is in the east end of London. It's the northwest end of the east end of the east end. I think at that time they were in... What band would they end up at that time? No. Before the Tamsman. After the originals. Somewhere in between... The regulars in the New Original. It's called all the way home. One, two, three. When I was sitting here beside the railroad track. And I'm waiting for my train to bring her back. If she got on the 5.19. Then I'm going to know what's all of me.

And I'm going to cry and cry and cry. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. And I'm going to cry and cry and cry. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. Now her dad didn't live like me this he said. And he could not get it through so great. That I loved this total soul did not intend to see her go. I'm going to cry and cry and cry. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. That I'm going to cry and cry and cry. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home.

All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. That I'm going to cry and cry and cry. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. That I'm going to cry and cry and cry. All the way home. All the way home. All the way home. Thank you. Thanks. This song is from the Motion Picture that came out about six years ago. Christopher directed it. We all had a part in. It was called a mighty wind. As you might imagine, a lot of research went into the making of the film.

But we were so busy while we were filming it. We decided to leave the research for afterwards, when it was already cut and released in the theaters. The very interesting facts that began to arise, though, we found out that about 50% of folk songs are based on terrible tragedies. That's true. That's correct. The other 50% are based on kind of mediocre tragedies. Not that much tragedies. We noticed a preponderance of songs about train wrecks and about coal mining disasters. We know of another song that covers both bases. This is called Blood on the Coal. One, two, three, thank you. This is called a Pound of Life.

The train gave round the corner, you could hear that tressel groan. But the switcher wasn't listening, so he left the switcher low. But on the tracks, put in the mine, brothers, sisters, what a typical. Old 97 went in the wrong hole. Now in mind of the 60, there's blood on the coal. Well, the walls began to tremble and the men began to yell. You could hear that lonesome whistle like an echo out of a well. They dropped their picks and shovels as to safety they didn't run. What a stay amongst the living in the year and 91. But on the tracks, put in the mine, brothers, sisters, what a terrible. Old 97 went in the wrong hole.

Now in mind of the 60, there's blood on the coal. Well, the walls began to tremble and the men began to yell. Now an Irishman named Murphy said, I'll stop that iron horse. As he stood in Florida's passage and it crushed him dead, of course. I hope he hears the irony when in this tale is told, that the train that took his life was burning, good, Kentucky coal. Hey, but on the tracks, put in the mine, brothers, sisters, what a terrible. Old 97 got in the wrong hole. Now in mind of the 60, there's blood on the coal. Thank you.

In memoriam. You know, we kid ladies and gentlemen. But seriously, if you ever have the bad fortune to be in a train wreck, please, please, please stay out of a coal mine, okay? You'll be very glad to do. Listen, what the flower people say. Listen, it's getting louder every day. Listen, it's like a bolt out of the blue. Listen, it could be calling next for you, just for you. Flower people walk on by.

Flower people don't you cry. It's not too late. It's not too late. Listen, it's like a bolt out of the blue. Listen, it's like a bolt out of the blue. Listen, it's something just for you and me, and D3.

Listen, what the flower people say. Listen, it's getting louder every day. Each and every day. Thank you so much, D3, D3, everyone. From New Orleans, Louisiana, this is La Show. This is another tune from the pen of Mark Shubb. This is Mark's reaction to a couple of the really ambient cliches

of the faux folk music scene in the early 1960s, the scene that we were kind of depicting in a mighty wind. Two of them really rampant cliches at the time were one, getting the syllables niny and niny as much as possible into every lyric. And two, this idea of a metaphor for men and a different metaphor for women. And men are like this, women are like this, and only if they could be more like each other, what a wonderful, how happy they would all be and what a world it would be. So Mark thought he'd just ramp up both of those, and A, try to get as many ninnies and ninnies into a lyric as possible. And two, to find really radically incompatible metaphors. So he chose corn and wine. The idea being that if they could ever get together, they'd make something hideously unpalatable sounding corn wine. But they'd be happy, but they'd be happy. They'd be happy, but you did.

So anyway, a couple of years ago I had reason to perform this song publicly, and I realized I didn't remember the lyrics, and I didn't have them on my computer. So I... You know, I did what the kids do now. I used the Googles. Oh, man. I just can't keep up with that stuff. I mean, the bloggers and the twitters and the t-baggers. Yeah. They got it all going on. I run. Never too late to learn. So I googled the title of the song. You know, you can find the lyric of any song now, a day is by googling its title, so I googled that title. And I swear to you, the first dozen hits I got when I did that were recipes for corn wine. So I guess human beings like to get blasted, I don't know. Anyway, here's that song, corn wine. One, two, three, four. The young man goes corn with just one thing in mind. It's hey, notty-no, notty-nitty-no.

A good time for to find. A young girl starts flirting with just one tail to tail. Then it's hey, notty-no, notty-nitty-no. A man too wet for well. Consider the corn. Consider the wine. One has a day when it's in its prime. The other takes years to be sturdy and fine. If only the two could just combine. Corn wine. Corn wine. A father starts to work in the Rosie Caracodon. Then it's hey, notty-no, notty-nitty-no. He comes home and bows the lawn. The mother gives her children. The thing she never had. Then it's hey, notty-no, notty-nitty-no. Then all this is dead. Consider the corn. Consider the wine. One's in hurry. One takes time. One's on a stone. The other's on a mine.

If only the two could intertwine. Corn wine. Corn wine. An old man sits thinking. But the game his life has played. It's hey, notty-no, notty-nitty-no. He needs both nurse and me. An old woman sits thinking. But the one she's loved so long. Then it's hey, notty-no, notty-nitty-no. And, and, and. Ending for this song. Consider the corn. Consider the wine. One has a day when it's in its prime. The other takes years to be sturdy and fine. If only the two could just combine. Corn wine. Corn wine. Corn wine. Wine. Thank you. Thank you very much.

David St. Hubbins, that self-professed full-time dreamer, only had one real dream in his life. And that was to someday write the great rock anthem. This explains all the mediocre practice anthems that he wrote over the years. Actually, this one, he came, he came kind of close. And, like, like many anthems, it's full of sound and fury, signifying three minutes of your life. You'll never have back again. It's called The Majesty of Rock. One, two, three, and. There's a pulse in the newborn sun, a beat in the heat of noon. There's a song as the day grows long, and the tempo, the tides of the moon. It's all around us and each everywhere,

and it's deeper than royal blue. And it feels so real, you can feel the feeling. And that's The Majesty of Rock, The Majesty of Roll, the ticking of the clock, the wailing of the soul, the prisoner of the dark, the digger in the hole, we're in this together and ever. In the shade of a jungle blade, all the rush of the crushing street, on the plain, on the foamy vein, you can never escape from the beat. It's in the mud and it's in your blood, and it's conquested, please. And all that you can do is just surrender, to the Majesty of Rock,

the Pagetary of Roll, the crowing of the clock, the wailing of the cold, and shepherd with his flock, I'm eyeing over this cold, we're in this together and ever. When we die, do we haunt the sky? Do we lurk in the murk of the seas? And what then, are we born again, just to sit asking questions like these? I know before I told you so, and I'm sure each of you quite agree. And all that stays the same,

the less it changes, and that's The Majesty of Rock, the Pagetary of Roll, the dawning of the song, the scoring of the goals, the farmer takes away, the farmer takes a pole, we're in this together and ever. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh. Thank you. Before that we did the Majesty of Rock, so this is clearly the royalty section of the show. Unlike the rest of the show, which our lawyers have informed us is royalty-free. Wasn't the idea. So we can culminate appropriately the royalty section of the show

with the King of Rock and Roll, Elvis Presley, the aforementioned Elvis Presley. I don't think it's well-remembered enough in this country exactly how Elvis Presley met his demise. I personally happen to be either cursed or blessed, depending on how you see it, with an exact memory of the words printed in the first edition of the New York Times that next day. Quote. Elvis Presley, Memphis, Tennessee. Elvis Presley, the King of Rock and Roll, died today at the age of 44, comma. Straining at stool. Unquote. The last three words were missing from later editions of the New York Times because people were having breakfast. But I have often thought through the years that it's sad that that fact has not been commemorated in song. Harry, I don't think you're right about that.

Really? Yeah, I think Bert Backrack wrote a song about that. Never finished. Yeah, as I recall, he wrote the melody and how David refused to write the lyrics. So it doesn't really count. Anyway, a couple years ago, Mr. Baston, some friends of mine in New Orleans, were working on a record of mine, ultimately the Grammy-losing song, supporting a pointless, but it was nominated and lost. And we decided to rectify that problem with a little song I called, all backed up. Well, blessing my soul is wrong with me. I've been riding this boat since quarter to three. I used to be as frisky as a twin-a-pound pup. Now look at me. I'm all backed up. I'm all backed up. I can do my field, but I can't get a thrill,

because I'm all backed up. Well, the doctor said he didn't know what to do. He gave me some pills and said, don't you dare sue something. I just couldn't afford a day to lose. Take a cup. Oh, look at me. I'm all backed up. I'm all backed up. I'm all backed up. I can eat my field, but where's the thrill? I'm all backed up. Back me up. I've got plenty more bags. I've got plenty more bags. I've got plenty more bags. This is C.J. Johnson. Well, the roader, the man came and brought his snake.

He said, this may hurt. Yeah, this might hurt. Well, don't you know, two hours later, snakes, I give up. Here's what he said. He says he may be the king, but he's all backed up. He's all backed up. He's all backed up. He can eat his field, but he can't get a thrill, because he's all backed up. I said, I can eat my field, but where's the thrill? I'm all backed up. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, I'm all backed up. Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, very, very, very much. Very, very, very, very, very, very. And thank you. Well, that's all history now. Speaking of history, are you ready to go on a little journey with us?

We need a little help on this little atmospheric help, if you can. The sound of the wind blowing over the blasted cold heats of England. It's nice. One more. Oh, yeah. If you start to black out, just put your head between your knees for those of a close friend. A ancient time. Hundreds of years before the dawn of history, if this giant, rising peak, the druids. No, no, it's where they were. Oh, what they were doing. But their legacy reminds you into the living room of stone.

One, two, three. Stonehenge. Where the demons dwell. Where the fatties live. And they do their well. Stonehenge. Where a man's a man. And the children does. To the pipes of man. Stonehenge. Here's a magic place. Where the moon defies. Where the dragons face. Stonehenge. Where the virgins lie. And the prayers of devils who build the midnight sky. And in my life.

Won't you take my hand. We'll go back to time. Do that in this day and then. For the demon drops cry. And the cancer's me out. I will take you there. I will show you how. And now what it does. The little children of stonehenge. Beneath the haunted room. Of fear.

The gateway might go. For the soon. And where are they now.

The little children of stonehenge. And what would they say to us. If we were here tonight. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you very much. It's a big druidic population in Milwaukee apparently. Oh yeah. Look at that. Wow. Lovely to see that. This next song is the name. I was going to say title tune. Is the title tune from the motion picture. A mighty wind.

Thank you. It was written by Michael and I with Eugene Levy. It's called a mighty wind. One, two, three. As I travel down the back roads of this home I love so much. Every carpenter and cowboy. Every layman on a crutch. They're all talking about a feeling. About a taste that's in the air. They're talking about this mighty wind. It's blowing everywhere. Oh a mighty winds of flowing. It's kicking up the sand. It's blowing out a message to every woman. Child and man. Yes a mighty winds of flowing. Cross the land and cross the sea. It's blowing peace and freedom. It's blowing equality. From the lighthouse in Bar Harbour to a bridge called Golden Gate.

From a trawler down in Shreveh to the shore of one grain late. There's a star on the horizon. Burning like a flame. It's lighting up this mighty wind. It's blowing everywhere. Oh a mighty winds of flowing. It's kicking up the sand. It's blowing out a message to every woman. Child and man. Yes a mighty winds of flowing. Cross the land and cross the sea. It's blowing peace and freedom. It's blowing equality. When the blind man gets the picture. When the deaf man hears the word. When the fisherman stops fishing. When the hunter spares the herd. There's still here the one and a story of a world where people can. A story of this mighty wind that's blowing everywhere. Oh a mighty winds of flowing. It's kicking up the sand.

It's blowing out a message to every woman. Child and man. Yes a mighty winds of flowing. Cross the land and cross the sea. It's blowing peace and freedom. It's blowing equality. It's blowing peace and freedom. It's blowing you and me. Thank you. Thank you. Have a great night. Are you going to walk in? Thank you. Thank you. Thanks everybody. Good night. Wow the fresh.