This is Becky Brusselsprout here with you live
In the waters just off the coast of the land.
Howzit feel, surfer dude, having missed that last wave?
Are you filled with remorse? Are you fit for the grave?
The world wants to know. I endorse their demand.
I’m a bitchin’ reporter; that’s how I survive.

You say you’re not bothered? The next wave will come?
That may be true, friend, but what are the odds
That you’ll catch it just right and appear like a pro?
If a breath is worth bating, then give us a show.
The world seems addicted to foolish facades.
We consume tons of content. Some folks call it scum.

We can’t stay and wait with you, and that’s to your good,
Because waiting’s to water as life is to flow.
When the next good one comes, we won’t be in your face,
Then perhaps you’ll perform in magnificent grace.
But since we won’t be here, the world will not know
So, so much for a story. We did what we could.