The first time the beat drops in the bar it’s going to be be biblical.
The second the singalong starts it’ll be sensational.
So sound the alarms and the sirens, the bells in the churches,
Bring your parents and your kids into the streets, throw open the hatches.

I’ve been missing the feeling when we close up the gaps between us.
It’s better than the best benediction, more bracing than bloodlust.
We’ve been waiting and wondering, saving and slavering,
Practicing and praying, gathering ourselves for the gathering.

We’ve been huddled in our houses for however many days like survivors.
We’ve been dutifully paying our dues and paying heed to our advisors.
But we’re pent up and pissed off and precariously close to the precipice.
We’re butterflies in ballet shoes and brothel creepers, coming out of our chrysalis.
It comes down to this.

Altogether now:

This is our mantra:
We gather together,
We look out for each other,
We’ve got strength in our numbers,
And I’ll be the preacher,
And this is our scripture.
Once more with feeling:
This is a gathering

Gather together,
This is a gathering.