Archive for December, 2008

The Mariner’s revenge

Posted in Song lyrics with tags on December 29, 2008 by Bruno

We are two mariners
Our ship’s sole survivors
In this belly of a whale
It’s ribs are ceiling beams
It’s guts are carpeting
I guess we have some time to kill

You may not remember me
I was a child of three
And you, a lad of eighteen
But, I remember you
And I will relate to you
How our histories interweave
At the time you were
A rake and a roustabout
Spending all your money
On the whores and hounds
(oh, oh)

You had a charming air
All cheap and debonair
My widowed mother found so sweet
And so she took you in
Her sheets still warm with him
Now filled with filth and foul disease
As time wore on you proved
A debt-ridden drunken mess
Leaving my mother
A poor consumptive wretch
(oh, oh)

And then you disappeared
Your gambling arrears
The only thing you left behind
And then the magistrate
Reclaimed our small estate
And my poor mother lost her mind
Then, one day in spring
My dear sweet mother died
But, before she did
I took her hand as she, dying, cried:
(oh, oh)

“Find him, Bind him
Tie him to a pole and break
His fingers to splinters
Drag him to a hole until he
Wakes up naked
Clawing at the ceiling
Of his grave”

It took me fifteen years
To swallow all my tears
Among the urchins in the street
Until a priory
Took pity and hired me
To keep their vestry nice and neat
But, never once in the employ
Of these holy men
Did I ever, once turn my mind
From the thought of revenge
(oh, oh)

One night I overheard
The prior exchanging words
With a penitent whaler from the sea
The captain of his ship
Who matched you toe to tip
Was known for wanton cruelty
The following day
I shipped to sea
With a privateer
And in the whistle
Of the wind
I could almost hear
(oh, oh)

“Find him, Bind him
Tie him to a pole and break
His fingers to splinters
Drag him to a hole until he
Wakes up naked
Clawing at the ceiling
Of his grave

There is one thing I must say to you
As you sail across the sea
Always, your mother will watch over you
As you avenge this wicked deed”

And then, that fateful night
We had you in our sight
After twenty months at sea
Your starboard flank abeam
I was getting my muskets clean
When came this rumbling from beneath
The ocean shook
The sky went black
And the captain quailed
And before us grew
The angry jaws
Of a giant whale


Don’t know how I survived
The crew all was chewed alive
I must have slipped between his teeth
But, oh, what providence
What divine intelligence
That you should survive
As well as me
It gives my heart great joy
To see your eyes fill with fear
So lean in close
And I will whisper
The last words you’ll hear
(oh, oh)

Belgium, 12-19-08

Posted in Song lyrics with tags on December 19, 2008 by Bruno

Five day forecast bring black tar rains and hell fire
while handpicked handler’s kid gloves tear at the inseams
their Halliburton attachי cases are useless
while scotch guard Macintoshes shall be carbonized
now they’re offering views of exiting empire
such breathtaking views of Scythian empires

Scythian empire, horsemen of the Russia steppe
Scythian empire, archers of an afterthought
Routed by Sarmations, thwarted by the Thracians
Scythian empire

Scythian empire, exiting empire
Scythian empire, exiting empire
Routed by Sarmations, thwarted by the Thracians
Scythian empire
Kings of Macedonia, Scythian empire

I don’t want your sympathy, just for you to worship me

Posted in the mind wanders... on December 17, 2008 by Bruno

Once upon a time there will be a personified deity with stubble. Although He is fin-de-career (this was after all day five), He hadn’t had time to grow Himself a long white beard. The fact that He forgot to create time until day four was the main reason for this. Some jew with a funny hairdo might have claimed eons before that time would be relative, but there will be nothing relative to growing a beard in the near future. The personified deity had been creating multiverses left, right and center; all perfectly identical to one another, so that He would not confound them. The multiverses expanded at such dazzling speed – the speed of a concept that wasn’t yet invented in the dark past- that they imploded into a dot within an infinite timespan. Each multiverse had nebulas, super novas and Heather Novas (whom He thought quite super as well). He had created hangovers, defaulted toasters and the tangy aftertaste of grapefruit. At the closing of day six He also created English drizzle, scones and tea and a little blue planet of no importance. He populated the planet with cleanly shaved biped creatures whom he equipped with opposable thumbs and an ego so big that they couldn’t possibly fit all the infinitesimal small multiverses into it. The creatures grew vain and finally came to the conclusion that they had descended from hairy quadrupeds without opposable thumbs. That was when they realised there could not be a personified deity (shaven or not), so the deity vanished before he had ever emerged from the darkness of infinity. The bleu planet kept on revolving all the same and some of the quadrupeds thought that they might well be the personified deity of which some very ancient books would speak later. In this day and age, One is tempted to believe it: Now I am become death, the destroyer of worlds.

My mother was a Chinese trapeze artist

Posted in Song lyrics with tags on December 5, 2008 by Bruno

My mother was a Chinese trapeze artist
In pre-war Paris
Smuggling bombs for the underground.
And she met my father
At a fete in Aix-en-Provence.
He was disguised as a Russian cadet
in the employ of the Axis.
And there in the half-light
Of the provincial midnight
To a lone concertina
They drank in cantinas
And toasted to Edith Piaf
And the fall of the Reich.

My sister was born in a hovel in Burgundy
And left for the cattle
But later was found by a communist
Who’d deserted his ranks
To follow his dream
To start up a punk rock band in South Carolina.
I get letters sometimes.
They bought a plantation
She weeds the tobacco
He offends the nation
And they write, “Don’t be a stranger, y’hear.”
“Sincerely, your sister.”

So my parents had me
To the disgust of the prostitutes
On a bed in a brothel.
Surprisingly raised with tender care
‘Til the money got tight
And they bet me away
To a blind brigadier in a game
Of high stakes canasta.
But he made me a sailor
On his brigadier ship fleet.
I know every yardarm
From main mast to jib sheet.
But sometimes I long to be landlocked
And to work in a bakery.

And he createth light everlasting…

Posted in the mind wanders... with tags on December 4, 2008 by Bruno

In this time of penumbra,

In this time of dark forbodings,

When all is dusk and shades,

I’ll be the flare in your life boat,

I’ll be your flash light in the cellar,

Your sunset on the Everglades.

I’ll be your beacon of Amon Dîn,

Your fireworks on New Year’s Eve,

The stake on which to burn your disbelief

The Holy Fire to burn away your sin.