I 'd never call myself intrepid
My soul was always limp and tepid
Til the brandywine was drunk
I never dared toward that old trunk:

Proclub Fog and Station
Proclub Steam-Rust-Yellow
Proclub Slow Variation
Proclub Limited Struggle

The news outlived itself and the weather,
Where proclub's golden demographic
Let itself be passéed off, complexed
Into seven years later, and of France.

I have a brother?!