Rhythm Pulse Beat Parade

Lyrics

“Calm Down, Sean” [Verse 1] Sean Seibert walks in, got his eyes on the prize, Assistant meat manager with promotion on his mind. One thing out of place, here comes the dramatic pause, Sean, it’s just a label—we don’t need martial laws! Got ambition, got drive, gotta give you that, But you’re pacing through the department like we’re under attack. Take a breath, count to ten, let the shoulders come down, You can run a good department without running all around. [Chorus] Calm down, Sean, let the meat case chill, You don’t have to turn each shift into a Hollywood film. Want that promotion? Let your good work show, Take care of your crew, give ’em room to grow. Sean Seibert, you can reach that next floor— Just don’t make every Tuesday feel like World War Four! [Verse 2] Somebody moved the chicken, somebody missed a tag, Now you’re giving us a speech with a trash can and a rag. We’re standing there like, “Sean, we can fix it in a minute,” But the sequel to the speech already got us all in it. We know you wanna move up, nobody’s saying stop, Just don’t wear yourself out trying to race toward the top. You can set expectations, you can keep us on track, Then once the job is handled, let yourself relax. [Bridge] You don’t need a theme song every time you check the stock, Or a season-ending cliffhanger when you look up at the clock. We’re rooting for you, Sean, but here’s the friendly plea: Less dramatic monologue—more “Hey, thanks, team!” [Final Chorus] Calm down, Sean, let the meat case chill, You don’t have to turn each shift into a Hollywood film. Want that promotion? Let your good work show, Take care of your crew, give ’em room to grow. Sean Seibert, keep that goal in view— Take a breath, crack a smile—we’re working here with you! [Outro — spoken] “Sean… the ground beef is stocked. The chicken’s fine. You can sit down for a minute.”