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He strums his broom
On a bridge like no other
They say it’s new
But it’s older than mother
Talkin’ ’bout the bridge, fool
Not the broom, brother
The broom bro’s old too
Older than another
He could’ve banged drums
But he chose witch’s kit
Is he Slash undercover
Or just some sad git
Nobody’s lover, singing
Lonesome blues shit
On his open-air stage
He’s got all the room
He’ll smother you with covers
Stones standards, glam gloom
If you ask nicely for it
He’ll grab his trusty tool
And when the moment comes
He’ll see what he can do
Inspiration might strike
And he’ll twang his loom
Dumb as it sounds
He’ll strum his broom

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