A Bit of Fry & Laurie

Stephen's Song

This is a spoken song, done against a backing of high strings. Not unlike Eamonn Andrew's unforgettably majestic "The Shifting, Whispering Sands". It is a kind of spoken "Windmills of your Mind".Stephen is dressed in a very new-agey sort of way. Possibly a caftan, possibly not. His hair is silky. The microphone is long and is held between his slim, sensitive palms.

Stephen The world is ever sliding
Ever gliding, ever turning;
Ever yearning and colliding.
The stairs begin to creak
You turn but cannot speak
When the bubble starts to squeak
And you find the truth you seek

You, yes, you, you, you
It's you I'm speaking to.
You ... the starling of my night
The goddess of what seems
You ... the sparkle of my fright
The parcel of my dreams
(Slowly) Just ... the ... parcel ... Of my ... dreams. (Whispered) Yes

The you, why, you, you, you
The you who do what none can do
The you that haunts my ears
On the shortlist of wasted rains
The avenue of chandeliers
That shames my frozen veins
(Slowly) That ... shames ... my ... Frozen ... veins. (Whispered) Not yet

The world is ever hiding
Ever riding, ever burning;
Ever churning and dividing.
For the horse bestrides the cart
And the temple rent apart
Thou wilt be what thou art
As your hand becomes your heart

You, yes, you, you, you
You who knows what once I knew
The you that spits my blood
And stares at both my clouds
You wear a sleeve of mud
Your cuffs become my shrouds
(Slowly) Your ... cuffs ... become ... My shrouds. (Whispered) Oh why?

You, yes, you, you, you
Which you the what how who
You crumple the skirts of need
In the belly of desire
Where my freshly planted seed
Can spin its tangled wire
(Slowly) Can ... spin ... its ... Tangled ... wire. (Whispered) Oh Certainly

Thank you.

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