Imagine the slide-steel whine of Dylan's "Highway 61 Revisited" with the drums wailing behind, that hard rocking whine that tells you the rock and roll is gonna be good, opening into this:

Oh God told Maxwell, "Build me a Site!"
Max says, "Chill, I been drinkin' all night"
God say, "Tough." Max say, "What?"
God say, "You can do what you want Max, but
Just don't come knocking at no Pearly Gate!"
Well Max says, "Just what d'ye want this site to say?"
God says, "Let's just call it Mudcat Cafe."

Well Old Man Spaw he had a bloody nose
Stuck in a ward with paper-towel clothes
He asked the doctors, where can I go
Doctor said there's only one place I know
Where they'll still love you, when you're old and gray...
Spaw sez, "Quick, man, show me the way!"
Doc says, "It's down at the Mudcate Cafe".

Well Rick the Field said to Big Joe King,
I got forty second-hand folkies who cain't sing
And a ream of old Gibsons with broken strings
Do you know where I can get rid of these things?
And Big Joe said let me think if there ain't some way...
And he hands old Rick a blue clicky piece of Cleigh
"Just take it all down to that Mudcate Cafe".

Now the fifteenth newbie on the fortieth thread
Said the jargon was gettin' stuck in her head
And the Songbook scansion was ruining her night!
So Troll said come here and step into the light... he says hmm you're right
Let me tell the Gaelic Goddess, she'll make it all OK,
But the Gaelic Goddess, she was having her way
With a sad-eyed poet out at the Mudcat Cafe.