Hello laser, my old friend,
I’ve come to fix you yet again,
Because a beamline softly creeping,
Makes it sure that I'm not sleeping,
I am here in the BI subbasement
The shutters click
These are the sounds of science.

In empty labs I've worked all night
Pumping down with all my might
’neath the halo of a tungsten lamp
I've kept my slides from the cold and damp
But the transfer arm is broken once again
Damn XPS
These are the sounds of science.

Now it's time to write it up
Will these data be enough
Me and Igor will continue to fight
To make quite sure the error bars are right
But will it be a paper that no one ever reads?
Does no one care
About the words of science.
I've discovered many trends
That warn of the worlds end
Hear my words that I might teach you,
Read my slides that I might reach you.
But my words like silent raindrops fell,
And echoed
In the Halls of Science

And the people bowed and prayed
That their world would be saved.
I went back to the subbasement,
with all my energy spent.
And I realized that, "the words of the prophets
Are written in lab notebooks
where no one looks."
They whisper the sounds of science.