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lyrics

When the pubs are closing down and turfing out the occupants the drunkards stagger home in hopes of getting back to bed again. The taxi rank is empty and the alkies starting arguments. To circumvent the issue Tom decides to nick a bike and then he's pedalling the streets swerving, with his feet slipping off the pedals and his vision blurry. Streamers tied to the seat. And several hundred feet pass by in a hazy flash. Several miles yet to go and he's getting gassed fast. The wind blew like never before and rattling showers did downpour. Speedy gleams the darkness swallowed, loud and deep the thunder bellowed. Half way too his home finds himself in darkened countryside. Stops to catch his breath and he sees a light. Curiosity strikes and he decides that he'll investigate the source. The booze steers his course towards the old fort. Voices fill the air, a joyous wicked revelry. He peeks his head around the corner, swears he sees the devil with these witches dancing naked and the demons looking on and singing songs and Tammy's transfixed watching it all going on. Towzie tyke, black grim and large. To gie them music was his charge. He screwed the pipes and made them sing til roof and rafters all did ring. Coffins stood like open presses, showed the dead in their last dresses. And by some devilish slight each of their cold hands held a light. Tam he lets out a gasp, and though it's barely audible the tawdry scene all turn and see him and let out a shrill cry. Ice down his spine, they're quickly in pursuit of him. He turns and flees jumps on the bike becomes a blur of limbs. As he pedals and he pedals, he can feel their breath upon his neck. Fingers miss by millimetres, panicking he sees the beck bridge. As he crosses the pursuit falls silent. The streamer ripped from the seat a sign he barely scraped by. There at them thy tail may toss. A running stream they dare not cross. Who this tale of truth shall read each man and mother's son take heed. If to drink you are inclined, or cutty sarks run in your mind. Think you might buy joys at cost, think of how Tam's streamer got lost.

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from Yellowjacket, released January 8, 2024

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Nate Monoxide Cumbria, UK

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