Sack the town, and rob the tower, and steal the alphabet
Close the door and bar the gate, but keep the windows clean
God’s alive inside a movie! Watch the silver screen!
Rum was served to all the traitors; pygmies held themselves in check
Bloodhounds nosed around the houses, down dark alleys sailors crept
Six bells struck, the pot was boiling – soup spilled out on passers-by
Angels mumbled incantations, closely watched by God on high
Lightning struck out – fire and brimstone! Boiling oil and shrieking steam!
Darkness struck with molten fury, flashbulbs glorified the scene
Not a man who had a finger, not a man who could be seen
Nothing called (not name nor number) – Echo stormed its final scream
Daybreak washed with sands of gladness, rotting all it rotted cleansanta bring my baby back to me elvis presley
Now you are reading: Whaling Stories – Procol Harum