Our Governing Body, who art in Brooklyn,
Upon whom our dollar bills do rain.
May your will be done.
And new light come.
From broadcasts that are wooden.
Give us our bi-monthly mags.
And forgive us for trespassing,
Into our neighbors yards.
May they be busy,
Or better yet - not at all home.
So that we can get to Starbucks,
But keep counting time.
Forever and ever.
Your company Men