Sam’s winter-gloved hand eventually lands

On the clock on the side of his stand

His blurry eyes scan - two snoozes today, that's not bad

Through his window below town covered in snow

All the cars on the road moving slow

City of Durgann Mills, all he’s ever known

He sits up in bed in his winter blue coat

It isn't ideal, he knows

It's pretty damn cold, but lower bills matter most

Still he can always raise the heat up if he chose

So he knows

That he still has it better than most

He’s the lucky one 

He can make it hot

If he wants

The lucky one

Sam treks down the steps til the end where he trips

He’s aware that last step should get fixed

Bank account's looking grim

So he pretends it's not as bad as it is

For at risk in this house is only just him

Though he’d really enjoy having kids

And then he’d get it fixed

But he’d first need to find him a chick who was rich

Just so he can pay for the life that his parents pretend

Should really be easy to get

Though he's not paying rent

Like most of the neighborhood is 

Yeah all of his payments go towards the money pit he owns

So he knows

That he still has it better than most

He’s the lucky one 

He may one day own

This broken home

The lucky one

Assuming all his payments clear

For thirty years

The lucky one 

Sam hears a scream from next door, but appears unconcerned

As he opens a closet drawer

Where he pulls out his gear to prepare for the violence in store

He straps his face guard on tight, which insurance paid for

About maybe half, could be worse

For at least he’s insured, which he knows his neighbor Joe can’t afford

He shuts the drawer, smiling

Yeah he has insurance which his other neighbors don't 

So he knows

That he still has it better than Joe

He’s the lucky one

Sam feels a weird breeze from the now open drawer

He thought he just closed, he swore

When his thoughts are derailed right then by three knocks on the door

Sam opens up the door, he's not surprised

By who’s on the porch outside

Disgruntled man in a shiny uniform 

Who's staring back at Sam with icy blue, cool, nonchalant eyes

We see spots of blood dried across his right side 

By his golden name tag reading Clyde

Gilded uniform, one of a kind

Tailored, edgy yet refined

Adorned with government-style patches all aligned

Around a gold lapel with a distinctive, abstract design

Comprised of three hand signs

From different pockets with their golden fingers intertwined

Clyde then grunts ‘it’s time’

And with a sigh, Sam nods and then he shuts his eyes

He takes a deep breath and slides his mouth guard inside

And then hesitantly takes a step outside

Like all days before, now’s his time to abide

Clyde lifts up his balled up fists in thin gold mitts

And punches Sam above the lips

Sam knows it should hurt much more, if not for all his

Equipment which diminished Clyde’s hit

He’s the lucky-

Clyde, suddenly enraged, punches Sam straight

In his gut which he can't negate

Sam drops to his knees, buckled over in pain

Confused, he looks for someone else to blame

Did they pass a new law letting Clyde get away

With unauthorized gut punches starting today?

Clyde brings order to town, says his favorite hosts

And it isn't ideal, he knows

Taking daily new blows, but obeying the law matters most

Still Clyde’s way more aggressive towards all the awful ones he knows

So he votes

To continue feeling better than most

He’s the lucky one

Clyde marches on through snowy ground 

Towards the next house down

Bungalow with yellow walls and accents brown

Now with hippy signs stuck into the ground

And he frowns, he doesn't like this part of town

It's so far away from the good ol days

He thinks back to when this house was painted gray

Owned by Uncle Dick who literally built this place

And like him, in Durgann Mills, they were born and raised

Things were better before it all fell from grace

The old mill closed, the workers not paid 

Then replaced by them rich folks from out of state

And now the kids won't go out and play, they have no faith 

They're acting crazed, but anyway

Clyde checks his watch under his glove

Notices dried blood

Yeah that's right, that lousy Roy though that he was hot stuff

That clown, two houses down acting he's all tough

He pushed back, so not my fault that I had to get rough 

The law, no one's above, and only punks rebuff

Should go back, don't think he learned that quite enough

Things were much better before it all fell from grace

The people once were properly raised to know their place

And proudly took it on the face

And now those punks will try to persuade me to go away

From their safe space

But anyway 

Clyde’s just glad, there's no blood on the Hands

The pin on his jacket, to him it's his sacred brand

Those fools, they can't understand

Those melting fingers, into one mighty hand

Expanding from three separate lands

That look like pockets, but the intent’s more grand

They stand a metaphor for God’s plan

Only bestowed on those who were born to command

And I was born to command

I am their law and order

I am the most suited 

One to execute this 

Mandatory persecution

Cry all you want, the law is the law 

No one will be excluded

Clyde has arrived, ten forty-five, made it up the drive

To the porch, heads to the door and knocks three times

Smiles, he’s energized, to see the surprise

On Joe's face, when he enacts what he's devised

Clyde feeds a weird breeze brush on his face

From Joe's place

Heading towards a red car across the way

Three minutes pass, Clyde's getting mad, ‘bout to knock again

When the door suddenly opens just a crack

“Joe, is this a joke?” A sarcastic ask

As he grabs the door knob firm and yanks it back

Joe stumbles outside, quite a tragic sight

Full of fright, this broken man is not all right

He tries his best to hide cuts and two black eyes

With a mask, bending in half, severely compromised 

Joe was better before his life fell from grace

He had a job but then was replaced in disgrace

By illegals from out of state

And now he blames those folks everyday 

For his sad fate

With online hate

But anyway

Clyde feels a rogue thought cross his mind

Wonders if he might

Give respite

To Joe based on this embarrassing sight

Yeah right, maybe I would in another life

Head on tight, he hates those times when he doesn't think right 

Not his job to decide

‘Cause the law’s the law

and to his simple delight

it's black and white

And he will enforce it right

I am their law and order

I am the most suited 

One to execute this 

Mandatory persecution

Cry all you want, the law is the law 

No one will be excluded

Clyde decides it's now time for his line

Leans down to Joe’s level and whispers to him ‘It’s time’

And Joe, scared out of his mind 

Scrambles to his doorway, attempting to run and hide

But Clyde grabs his shirt from behind

Flips him to face him, staring cold in his eyes

“Joe why, are you attempting to try

To evade your commitment?

You know what, never mind”

Like all days before, now’s Joe’s time to abide

Clyde winds back, punches Joe in the mask

Loud crack 

Then we notice the mask is now broke in half

Clyde laughs, as Joe falls on his back

Says “this is your penance” and prepares for his next attack

Kicks Joe several times in the ribs

Bends down and keeps punching him on his bloody lips

He sits on Joe’s chest and he spits

On Joe's crying face, and eventually tells him this

I am the law and order

I am the most suited 

One to execute this 

Just and holy persecution

Cry all you want, the law is the law 

And you won't be excluded

You’re just another martyr

Victim of the polluted

Heresy that has taken over 

The ignorant and deluded

The community needs, your blood as the seed

Let the holy Hands be rooted

Susan sits in her red car, looking patiently

At the town hall building across the street

So discrete 

Sees the line is out the door, max capacity 

Seems the townies filled up the hundred seats

And even with a hundred more 

From all the years she's hosted before

They all have less to hate about this awful town than her 

Her constituents, why do they decide

Leave their nice, warm homes just to freeze outside

To complain ‘bout everything 

Such a waste of time

She knows what's on their minds

Just like every time

“Let’s reopen the mill”, Roy will always whine 

And based on others in that line

Limping with bruises, cuts and black eyes

She’d guess the rest all might like to talk about Clyde

And that's fine

As long as they don't try to break the line

As long as they don't try to take what’s mine

We’ll run out the clock together

Susan sighs and at six thirty

Removes her keys 

Opens up her purse, when she feels a breeze

She looks around suspiciously

Before she proceeds

To sneak across the street

Remaining unseen

She enters town hall from the back

Straightens her necklace shaped like the Hands

Purse in hand, she struts across the stage to the podium stand

Like all days before, now’s her time to command

Susan gradually mastered the routine

Tell them all to be quiet please

Then tell them all to settle down and take their seats

And raise their hands before addressing me

If they don't then just repeat 

Every time repeating a bit more mean

Eventually everyone will acquiesce my lead

And then I let them worship me

Then it's “Durgann Mills is the place to be

A true Fear of God community”

Flaunt my necklace to the crowd gratuitously

Then preach The Hands for love and unity 

Susan knows that when she can see

Their stupid smiles from their seats

That finally she tricked them all and now they’ll believe 

That I am them and they are mine 

By design 

And as long as they don't try to break the line

As long as they don't try to take what’s mine

We’ll run out the clock together

As long as they don't give me any sign

My leadership is suffering decline

We’ll run out the clock together

Now’s their turn to use the mic

And she lets them gripe

While pretending to care about what they don't like

It's alright

Pretty soon they'll give up their fight

Right on cue Roy begins his whine

Wants me to turn back time

Thinks if the mill was back, his life might work out right

Susan listens to all Roy’s concerns

Then reaffirms that his voice is heard

Thanks him for his thoughts and then invites the others afterwards

Words they do provide, most regarding Clyde

Instead of asking if they need him, they decide 

To focus on pointless issues 

That will absolutely not improve their lives

Like debating what time he arrives

Argue the color of suit he’s supplied

And complain about insurance claims for their new face guards being denied

And that's fine

For as long as they don't try to break the line

As long as they don't try to take what’s mine

We’ll run out the clock together

They're so use to being beaten, they’ve forgotten they don't need it

Susan's quite content, with five minutes left

Since nothing came up she did not expect

When she detects another hand raise up from the left

It's lucky Sam from downtown looking pretty stressed

Before she calls on him Sam just erupts

Complaining ‘bout how Clyde punched him in the gut

Saying how unfair the law is, if it is abruptly

Made up without telling the rest of us

Susan says nothing’s new, Clyde has immunity

As the backbone of our community

If you were acting like a fool than surely he

Was just reacting how he should appropriately 

Sam screams “One punch a day is what I voted for 

And I’m not putting up with any more!”

Susan laughs at Sam as she's got a surprise in store

Says if he wants, she can bring a new vote to the floor

Susan asks the crowd, her voice calm yet loud

“Sam here thinks that Clyde should be removed from town

So let's vote now, do you all want to keep Clyde around?”

Sam steps ahead toward the stage with a big thumbs down

Everyone looks around and quiets down

When they suddenly hear stomping growing loud

As Clyde approaches from backstage, salutes Susan proud

Then turns to stare down at Sam with a tired frown

Clyde sighs and grunts “It’s time”, and then the first blow lands

Sam is punched in his gut and then his t-shirt grabbed

From behind as pissed-off Clyde then proceeds to drag 

Him on the stage and slam him into the podium stand

Sam arms flail around, his right erratically snags

Susan's necklace, snapping off her golden strand

Susan starts freaking out that things have got out of hand

Runs off backstage with her purse on the podium stand

The last thing Susan sees is Joe, the broken man

Limp up onstage and start kicking Sam

Joe links up with Roy and Clyde, they close their eyes and

They intertwine their fingers tight, reenacting the Hands