Every Friday, at four
To a darkened door
We bring this package
Which always gets sent

But they're never in
And so we begin

To wonder if they paid the rent
To wonder if they paid the rent

There's wooden partitions
Which reek of suspicion
We notice a roll of banker's chairs
Pulled out or pushed about

As if someone was recently there
As if someone was recently there

But they'll be right back
Oh, they'll be right
There's a sign on the door
That says

They'll be right back
They're not like the others
The Corwith Brothers
They'll be right back

The place looks old
Like time has its hold
On the moment
The occupants disappeared
The objects are moved
But the workers removed

I tell my dispatcher
Man, this is just too weird
I tell my dispatcher
Man this is just too weird

It doesn't seem right
No computers in sight
I wonder
Just what kind of business they do

If no one would mind
I'd go in and find
A world away
From all that is new

But they'll be right back
Oh, they'll be right
There's a sign on the door that says
They'll be right back

They're not like the others
The Corwith Brothers
They'll be right back