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WHALING STORIES (Brooker / Reid) Procol Harum Pailing well after sixteen days, a mammoth task was set Sack the town, and rob the tower, and steal the alphabet Close the door and bar the gate, but keep the windows clean God's alive inside a movie! Watch the silver screen! Rum was served to all the traitors; pygmies held themselves in check Bloodhounds nosed around the houses, down dark alleys sailors crept Six bells struck, the pot was boiling - soup spilled out on passers-by Angels mumbled incantations, closely watched by God on high Lightning struck out - fire and brimstone! Boiling oil and shrieking steam! Darkness struck with molten fury, flashbulbs glorified the scene Not a man who had a finger, not a man who could be seen Nothing called (not name nor number) - Echo stormed its final scream Daybreak washed with sands of gladness, rotting all it rotted clean Windows peeped out on their neighbors, inside fireside bedsides gleam SHALIMAR, the trumpets chorused, angels wholly all shall take Those alive will meet the prophets, those at peace shall see their wake

    


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