It was a cold, dark night down in south Detroit. We're crouched down behind a shed, waiting for a signal: a whistle from the window while Jack's lying in his bed. He's asleep, sleepin' on silky sheets, we gotta be quiet as a mouse. Down drops a line from a buddy of mine as we climb up in his house. Wrapped up in his arms, tripped with burglar alarms and shining like tinfoil, sat before our eyes, the beloved prize: Jack White's Tesla Coil. We left the pliers behind, it must have slipped my mind, "I guess we've gotta grab it and go". And to Jack's surprise, by the time he realized, we were already on the road.

And we've got it. We've got it now.
And if Jack thinks he's getting it back, I'll say "Hell No!"

Just get to the van, you don't understand, that Jack is drawing near?! But to our surprise Meg's glowing eyes fired back in the rear mirror. "BRAVO TEAM! BRAVO TEAM! The Mission has been compromised!" "Here's what you've gotta do, if you wanna get through, you've gotta find yourself a disguise. And head to the beach, it's just past his reach, the sun's rays are too bright." So we skipped town via Greyhound and we hid just out of sight. Well, now we're up on stage... Jack's full of rage and his blood begins to boil. But, as the story goes, for our live shows we needed his Tesla Coil.

And we've got it. We've got it now.
And if Jack thinks he's getting it back, I'll say "Hell No!".