I Thought You Said "It's a Game of Chants"

I threw darts at the
blank pictures on the wall
while my uncle slept
his troubles away
in the arms of another
high school girl

I traced the exit wounds
with the conductor's wand
my brother's shoulder
where he would have been
shot
I led the orchestra
off-tempo
the clarinets whined

my parents watched the
radio
waiting for the song
to waltz and smile to
floorboards creaking
toes digging pits of brass
into igloos

but all they played was static
so they danced anyway