In recent years, lyrics fraught with suffixial addenda have become the bane of listeners who pine for the simpler days when music and words were two distinct and frequently adversarial forms of communication. In early performances of opera, notably those that started before 9am, highly suffixed lyrics were sometimes torn right from the lips of the offending singers by outraged though misguided audients, who then, depending upon the operatic venue, either burned them at the stake (as in Joan of Arc), hung them from the yardarm (as in Pirates of Penzance), or tossed them in the path of a charging Valkyrie (as in Tosca). During the heyday of Tin Pan Alley, open hostility towards the clever word and music collaboration forced many nervous songwriters to mark the lyric suffixes "optional," often discombobulating the meter by a factor of three-quarters. Eventually, suffixic perturbation led to antagonism towards lyrics in general, and songwriters took to writing their accompanying words on pages separate from the tunes, a practice which gave rise to a whole new school of contemporary composition, the name of which escapes me. It must be important, though, because without it, there would appear to be scant reason for going on for so long about it on this, the 126th episode of Kalvos & Damian's New Music Bazaar, whose own forays into the realm of lyricality rarely extend to the melodies themselves, as harmless harmonical passages are better left for the commercially indebted radiophonic outlets to air. For the time being, your current hosts will continue to forestall the take-over of this humble communications medium by the suited persuaders of monotony, but the time will come when we, too, will seem to lose our appreciation of wordal appendages. At that time, dear listener, not all will be lost, because presumably we will at last be privy to large, welcome remunerations for our actions, and isn't that what conforming to societal constants is all about? Kalvos?