Yeah, he couldn’t sleep the night before because the kernel of this idea kept him up working out how the words and verses would fit. Over and over, he went through the lyrics, thinking of different ways to say the words so they would fit. Multiple times he thought it was pointless, but in the back of his now troubled mind, he knew this could be done. Getting “mama” to work was genius, he thought, and provided the needed steam to power through and finish. Then, at 3:28 in the morning, as quietly as possible, he snuck down to the garage. He was careful to put just enough upward pressure on the door when opening and closing it so it didn’t squeak like usual. Once out there, he sat on the top step, his feet on the second to last. His chest tight, his extremities tingling with anticipation, he closed his eyes, took a deep breath, and nailed it in one take. Afterwards, after a brief moment of contented silence, he got up, quietly retraced his steps, crawled back into bed, and slept like a baby. He wasn’t even tired when he woke up 2-hours later to get ready for work.

He didn’t say a word to anyone in the house, or at work, about what had happened. It was for him. And the Internet.