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Mutin​é​e

from ShiPPe by Captain Verbese

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lyrics

Mutinée

But not only do they sing; they kill, murder, and maim too; His and her singing cannot drown out the noise of battle.

Let’s mutiny like it’s a matinee, let ‘em stew and marinate, backwards hate married, but date them with their maiden name comrade, no sir, captain or constable, just née, shrapnel and huntsmen stand tall, muskets rest gently on chins, enamoured by the fearful grins as musket balls bore through skin, sabres fall under the weight of war, a lead-steam world; too much for arcane shoulders to bear, barmaids smoulder bare, casualties of whore, not collateral damage, but they’re lateral with those who brandish badges, baddies who hold diplomatic immunity, but sadly fall to the same old poxes as you and me, especially lead poisoning force fed through mutiny.

let’s perform like it’s a matinee, digital battery of pixels and pixies, pens that write emptily, scratched names on the side of the ship like a shelf full of trophies, that boast of a wealth full of hopelessly lost at sea ghosts, plant them in the sea like seeds and see if they can swim, raise the anchor and dance as the ship rocks back and forth, thank the road for the way it forks, and the fork for the way it talks to meat of all sorts, let the sharks dine tonight, if they enjoyed the show they’ll eat even more, so let’s let the children stay up late and witness first hand their fate, let them lend a hand and satiate their starved hunger, then we’ll hang the Master At Arms and watch him gently slumber; it’ll do them no harm, and it’ll quiet their blunder, then let them suckle at their mother’s breasts, and listen to their uncle mumble about what life will be like now that they’re free, and let the Midnight ring in the next matinée.

Prisoners need to feed, so prisoners become seeds, give them poison or let them bleed, watch them grow so that they too can be free, let them feed the sea and nourish Davy, and there’s no other shore like David Jones, so let them float alone on the pavement stones of her Majesty’s Thrown, so she can moan and groan about her lost children; let her grieve if she will, then let her toast her upcoming victory with expensive swill, while we toast our past glories with buckets of bilge

credits

from ShiPPe, released September 15, 2012

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