[The Story Of The Hare Who Lost His Spectacles]
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[Words by Jeffrey Hammond]
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[Spoken:]
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This is the story of the hare who lost his spectacles.
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Owl loved to rest quietly whilst no one was watching. Sitting on a fence one day,
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he was surprised when suddenly a kangaroo ran close by. Now this may not
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seem strange, but when Owl overheard Kangaroo whisper to no one in
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particular, "The hare has lost his spectacles," well, he began to wonder.
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Presently, the moon appeared from behind a cloud and there, lying on the grass
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was hare. In the stream that flowed by the grass a newt. And sitting astride a
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twig of a bush a bee. Ostensibly motionless, the hare was trembling with
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excitement, for without his spectacles he was completely helpless. Where were
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his spectacles? Could someone have stolen them? Had he mislaid them? What
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was he to do? Bee wanted to help, and thinking he had the answer began:
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"You probably ate them thinking they were a carrot." "No!" interrupted Owl,
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who was wise. "I have good eye-sight, insight, and foresight. How could an
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intelligent hare make such a silly mistake?" But all this time, Owl had been
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sitting on the fence, scowling! Kangaroo were hopping mad at this sort of talk.
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She thought herself far superior in intelligence to the others. She was their leader,
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their guru. She had the answer: "Hare, you must go in search of the optician."
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But then she realized that Hare was completely helpless without his spectacles.
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And so, Kangaroo loudly proclaimed, "I can't send Hare in search of anything!"
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"You can guru, you can!" shouted Newt. "You can send him with Owl." But Owl
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had gone to sleep. Newt knew too much to be stopped by so small a problem
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"You can take him in your pouch." But alas, Hare was much too big to fit into
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Kangaroo's pouch. All this time, it had been quite plain to hare that the others
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knew nothing about spectacles.
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[Sung:] As for all their tempting ideas, well Hare didn't care. The lost spectacles were
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his own affair. And after all, Hare did have a spare a-pair. A-pair.
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[Forest Dance #2 (Instrumental)]
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[The Foot Of Our Stairs]
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We sleep by the ever-bright hole in the door,
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eat in the corner, talk to the floor,
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cheating the spiders who come to say "Please",
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(politely). They bend at the knees.
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Well, I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
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Old gentlemen talk of when they were young
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of ladies lost and erring sons.
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Lace-covered dandies revel (with friends)
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pure as the truth, tied at both ends.
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Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
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Scented cathedral spire pointed down.
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We pray for souls in Kentish Town.
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A delicate hush the gods, floating by
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wishing us well, pie in the sky.
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God of ages, Lord of Time, mine is the right to be wrong.
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Well I'll go to the foot of our stairs.
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Jack rabbit mister spawn a new breed
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of love-hungry pilgrims (no bodies to feed).
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Show me a good man and I'll show you the door.
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The last hymn is sung and the devil cries "More."
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Well, I'm all for leaving and that being done,
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I've put in a request to take up my turn
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in that forsaken paradise that calls itself "Hell"
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where no-one has nothing and nothing is well meaning fool,
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pick up thy bed and rise up from your gloom smiling.
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Give me your hate and do as the loving heathen do.
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[Overseer Overture]
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Colours I've none, dark or light, red, white or blue.
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Cold is my touch (freezing).
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Summoned by name - I am the overseer over you.
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Given this command to watch o'er our miserable sphere.
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Fallen from grace, called on to bring sun or rain.
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Occasional corn from my oversight grew.
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Fell with mine angels from a far better place,
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offering services for the saving of face.
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Now you're here, you may as well admire
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all whom living has retired from the benign reconciliation.
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Legends were born surrounding mysterious lights
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seen in the sky (flashing).
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I just lit a fag then took my leave in the blink of an eye.
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Passionate play join round the maypole in dance
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(primitive rite) (wrongly).
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Summoned by name I am the overseer over you.
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[Flight From Lucifer]
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| Flee the icy Lucife |
