About: The Music Ends   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

A poem by Fisher kel Tath. "Will you come and tell me when the music endsWhen the musicians are swallowed in flamesEvery instrument blackening and crumbling to ashWhen the dancers stumble and sprawl their diseased limbsrotting off and twitching the skin sloughing awayWill you come and tell me when the music endsWhen the stars we pushed into the sky loose their roarsAnd the clouds we built into visible rage do now explodeWhen the bright princes of privilege march past with dead smilesFalling from their faces a host of deceiving masksWill you come and tell me when the music endsWhen reason sinks into the morass of superstitionWaging a war of ten thousand armies stung to the lashWhen we stop looking up even as we begin our mad runningInto stupidity's nothingness with heavenly choirs screaming

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  • The Music Ends
rdfs:comment
  • A poem by Fisher kel Tath. "Will you come and tell me when the music endsWhen the musicians are swallowed in flamesEvery instrument blackening and crumbling to ashWhen the dancers stumble and sprawl their diseased limbsrotting off and twitching the skin sloughing awayWill you come and tell me when the music endsWhen the stars we pushed into the sky loose their roarsAnd the clouds we built into visible rage do now explodeWhen the bright princes of privilege march past with dead smilesFalling from their faces a host of deceiving masksWill you come and tell me when the music endsWhen reason sinks into the morass of superstitionWaging a war of ten thousand armies stung to the lashWhen we stop looking up even as we begin our mad runningInto stupidity's nothingness with heavenly choirs screaming
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dbkwik:malazan/pro...iPageUsesTemplate
abstract
  • A poem by Fisher kel Tath. "Will you come and tell me when the music endsWhen the musicians are swallowed in flamesEvery instrument blackening and crumbling to ashWhen the dancers stumble and sprawl their diseased limbsrotting off and twitching the skin sloughing awayWill you come and tell me when the music endsWhen the stars we pushed into the sky loose their roarsAnd the clouds we built into visible rage do now explodeWhen the bright princes of privilege march past with dead smilesFalling from their faces a host of deceiving masksWill you come and tell me when the music endsWhen reason sinks into the morass of superstitionWaging a war of ten thousand armies stung to the lashWhen we stop looking up even as we begin our mad runningInto stupidity's nothingness with heavenly choirs screamingWill you come and tell me when the music endsWhen the musicians are no more than black grinning sticksEvery instrument wailing its frantic death cry down the roadWhen the ones left standing have had their mouths cut offLeaving holes from which a charnel wind eternally blowsWill you come and tell me when the music endsThe fire is eating my breath and agony fills this songWhen my fingers crack on the strings and fall from my handsAnd this dance twists every muscle like burning ropeWhile your laughter follows down my crumpling corpseWon't you come and tell me when the music endsWhen I can leap away and face one god or a thousandOr nothing at all into this blessed bliss of oblivionWhen I can prise open this box and release cruel and bitter furyat all the mad fools crowding the door in panicked flightWatch me and watch me with eyes wide and shockedWith disbelief with horror with indignant umbrage to upbraidAnd the shouted Nays are like drumbeats announcing a truthThe music ends my friends, my vile, despicable friends, and see me —See me slam the door slam it hard — in all your faces!" ―The Music EndsFisher kel Tath
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