Song Dedication For The Broken Hearted

1 Apr

There’s been a lot of sadness around the world this week, what with Thomas Angove (the now-legendary inventor of goon) having transcended the mortal realm, and other events which might also be important.  I’ve listened to this song on repeat for a couple of days now, and it seems somehow fitting.

He always looked behind him, scared somebody would jump him. Put him on the ground so he’d come around to the sound of people laughing. ‘Cos the whole world loved to mock him. Sun and moon both pointed at him. Kids would crick their necks to get a better view. Well, it really did his mind in, and we wanted to protect him. So we placed his face in a smash-proof case and placed it in the fridge.

They giggled in the corners, whispered lies across the borders. They derided him and chided him ’til he carried out their orders. So he dashed into the limelight, played at Hamlet for a fortnight. Waved his arms and screamed demands for some respect. But they just could not excuse him, it was really too amusing. So he packed his sack and scrambled back to safety in the fridge.

And I swear I saw his spirit skim the sky with nothing near it. Piled armour-plated roller skates, white feather train to steer it. Scared somebody would look up, gesticulate and throw up. Send him flitting, flitting scarred behind a cloud. But for him, there’s no escaping, no hole big enough to hide in. Best just to stay nicely out the way in safety in the fridge.

In the village bells were tolling, in the town the dogs were howling. It was Armageddon, tanks crashed head-on, planet Earth was drowning. Then the Devil sent a shower, Europe died in half an hour. And a demon wind just finished off the rest. But our friend, he took a teabreak, idly munching on a fish-cake. Quite oblivious and ignorant but cozy in the fridge.

It’s so cold there, in the fridge. It’s so icy, frosty.

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