Poetic Orchestral Song
piano
poetry
dark
dirty
passion
society
sorrow
orchestra
life
morbid
improvisation
poverty
nihilism
armageddon
goths
tale
nihilistic
underbelly
punks
melancolly
Story behind the song
This started out as a poem. I then improvised the song in one go, recording the improvisation. I then learned to replay it the same on guitar, and eventually recorded it on my little studio.
Lyrics
It's a morbid tale,
Perhaps destined to fail,
And falter before the shores of Petty Coat Lane.
It's a dirty deal,
brought in on a real,
and hung from the walls of Petty Coat Lane.
Bight your fingers off,
Wheeze and cough,
Have it off with a goth,
Who used to be a punk.
Slink, slank, slunk, Jive, Jitter Funk.
Tempered with a stitch,
Drunk on a bitch of gingerbread jammers.
Aaaaaahhhh!!!!
It's a sorry story,
Lacking the glory,
worthy of the hearts of Petty Coat Lane.
It's a measly meal,
served on dull steel,
to the broken mouths of Petty Coat Lane
Pluck out your gums, sharpen your thumbs,
Miscalculate sums, for the numbs, who never used to be.
Free me, the, B, C, open sesame, holidays for gallery slaves,
Who ride those wave.
And they ride them back again,
And shaving on sharpened bones,
We stay at home and write our tomes.