This ain’t one body’s story. It’s the story of us all. We got it mouth-to-mouth, so you got to listen it and ‘member, ’cause what you hears today you got to tell the birthed tomorrow.
I’m looking behind us now, across the count of time, down the long haul into history back. I sees the end what were the start. It’s Pox-Eclipse, full of pain! And out of it were birthed boredom and lonesome time. It were full-on locked-down, and Mr. Dead chasing them all. So they never left their homes, said bidey-bye to the people-places and the sports-ball, and what were left of the knowing they left behind.
Some say the travel just stoppered. Others reckon it were a witch called Rhona. And after the locked-down some had been jumped by Mr. Dead but some had got the luck, and it leads them here. One look and they’s got the hots for it. They word it “Planet Home.” And they says, “We don’t need the knowing. We can live here.
Time counts and keeps counting. They gets to missing what they had. They get so lonely for the BrumBrums and the Pubs, they want to leave the locked-down. But Mr Dead is still in the here-time, so you got to listen it and ‘member, ’cause what you hears today you got to tell the birthed tomorrow.
