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The At the End of the Pier Song
My days are spent in disguise, ably playing the fool,
for by night I’m a figure of mysterious cool.
Half unlucky-in-love, dysfunctional freak,
half paragon of modern vigilante chic.
In the Age of Austerity, on the cusp of a storm,
the Split Personalitaires sing to keep warm.
In a rusty oil drum, comic books ignite
at the end of the pier, at the edge of the light.
I am far too phantasmal for my own good,
despite my leaving subtle clues along the way.
No dramatic unmasking, no one sussing me out,
it’s disappointing, I have to say.
Hunting down vespertilian villains is my trade,
but my mind is a whirring amusement arcade.
I am weary of the struggle—of spilling blood.
I drink of the night—the emotional flood.
In the Age of Austerity, on the cusp of a storm,
the Split Personalitaires sing to keep warm.
In a rusty oil drum, comic books ignite
at the end of the pier, at the edge of the light.
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2. |
Mysterious Plague Doctor
02:59
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Mysterious Plague Doctor
Mysterious Plague Doctor,
who or what are you beneath that bird-like mask?
Thank you for your unanticipated assistance:
battling brutal mutant cats in league with Lucifer.
Mysterious Plague Doctor,
who or what are you beneath those red glass lenses?
Your scent is that of rose petals, laudanum and myrrh:
battling brutal mutant cats in league with Lucifer.
Mysterious Plague Doctor,
who or what are you beneath that wide-brimmed hat?
Your wooden cane wards off dark disease:
battling brutal mutant cats in league with Lucifer.
Will someone out there stand beside me, and
restore my faith in the human race?
Please grasp the nettle—show your mettle, for
the world needs a new kind of hero.
Mysterious Plague Doctor,
who or what are you beneath that long, hooded cloak?
Blood-soaked, bleak morbidity:
battling brutal mutant cats in league with Lucifer.
Mysterious Plague Doctor,
who or what are you beneath that freakish disguise?
Your oilcloth stops their poison seeping through:
battling brutal mutant cats in league with Lucifer.
Mysterious Plague Doctor,
who or what are you beneath that long, creepy beak?
I never would have guessed you were the girl I love,
never would have guessed you were the girl I love:
battling brutal mutant cats in league with Lucifer.
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Blue-John Benjamin Whitby, UK
"We put the boot in - flew the freak-flag;
We stood resolute like Morrissey’s quiff."
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