Come and listen to a story about a man named Bob
A poor common-eer, rode the subway to his job,
Then one day at the stroke of ten past four,
The lights went out and power was no more.

Dark that is, blackout, No can see.

Well the first thing you know ol' Bob's with millions there,
Streetfolk said "Bob walk this way - it's bare"
Said "the Manhattan is the bridge on which to flee"
So he started down the street and walked while he could see.

Home, that is. Crossing Seas, Dodgin' bars.

Old Bob got to Brooklyn, twelve miles to his door
And You can bet his body is really really sore
Lotsa folks did hoof-it, many hours in the heat
And now they've lost all feeling in their legs and feet.
Numb, that is. Aching calves, throbbing thighs.

Well now it's time the lights went on for Bob and all Brooklyn
And they would gladly pay you folks fer air con-di-tion-in'.
You're all invited here some day to his locality
Just bring a heapin helpin of e-lectricity

Kilowatts, that is. Live current, Turn your generator on.

Y'all walk back now, y'hear?.