Create a prog song - one verse or line at a time

Third prog song epic

Whew! Its been another 20ish pages since the last song so time to call this one to an end so we can begin another on our penultimate album. So far:

By EPICOLUCULOUS O)))

Track 1 "TIME FOR AN EPIC"

 Track 2 “THE AMAZING WONDEROUS STORY” 

Track 3 "One Month To Live"

 thx to all the mad contributers on this 3^rd  track especially the usual suspects, Vompatti, The Sleepwalker and RoeDent, someone_else, refugee, BlowinFree, and a bit of stuff from Conor Fynes, CPicard, among others...

This again  took a heck of a long time to paste here so enjoy this psychedelic epic that is impossible to record..... I edited a lot of chit chat as it was tiring but al the good stuff is here, I believe.

Again if anyone wants to record this as an actual song- er.......... good luck!

I take no responsibiltiy for the insanity contained therein.. and I had to censor a bit as it was getting wude again, but oh well here it is – enjoy!!!.

Here goes as it was written on this thread <ahem>

This song featured a ton of poetry and lengthy song satires of VDGG, and featured some excellent little rhyming verses and I think was easier to read as a result. Have fun reading it or singing it...

By EPICOLUCULOUS O)))

Third prog song epic

Track 3

"One Month To Live"

By EPICOLUCULOUS O)))

If I had one month to live

I would give all I can give

to the one I love the most

the shed beneath the lamp post

Choir: He knows he is a looooooooooooooooon-

Little boy with a red balloon: eeeeeeeeee!

(bombastic flute solo and then Miles Davis' trumpet and Coltrane's sax blast into a huge instrumental)

Purple Gnome:

feed the wombat to the seabeast.

we shall make that monster feast. 

The wombat is a dirty scumbag.

And I bet he looks like an old hag. 

D Gilmour: We're just two lost souls swimming in a sewer hole

year after year

running over the same old fox and hound

what have we found

an ordinary sound

the same old sneer

wish you were a beer! 

Klaatu: Deeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeep!

now I GO TO SLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP!

G'NIGHT!

Heater Panel :

Too late, with my balance gone,

all these VIP members,

(Congratulations, mr. refugee!)

I'm falling, falling

back to where I began...

Gnome-like figurines and wombat police

eating from your cake as if it's a pie. 

They are the turds in your toilet;

the vomit underneath you sofa!

They will not back off, even if you say 'Berlin"

(though few of them will).

Like wompires hiding in your closet

here he comes again, sucking on your toes. 

He's a big-nosed furry rodent

following you every day. 

I bet he'll stop if I kick him kinda hard

- but I've tried so many times, 

but he still follows me to school,

to the bar,

to the grocery store,

and to the toilet!

He justs sits there and watches me,

with his seeking eye, thirsty for blood. 

And then when you don't expect it...

he rips off your shoes, and sucks

on your toes!

He also farts every now and then 

and I often reply saying "yuck". 

We're on page 42!

Choir: Forty-Two!  Forty-Two!  That's twenty-one times two!

Wombat:

I'm just an ordinary man

ravaging my neighbor's garden;

stamping flowers, cracking twigs,

dropping turds, scaring the children.

But deep in my heart I know

I shouldn't,

deep in my heart I know...

Telephone tapped!

Oh no, now they are after me!

I'll pack my bags and leave this 

silly and crazy town. 

Nevermore shall I return to here...

Nevermore shall I harass my neighbors...

Nevermore shall I clean my butt with 

toilet paper, only leaves from now on!

(kazoo solo)

"Aaaw, VompattI!" said the wombat girl, and she sucked him into her nose. 

It was nice and warm inside her nose so Vompatti decided to remain there for the next 15 years.

He left a whiny, bearded wombat. 

choir:  He left a whiny, bearded wombat behind and remained there for the next 15 years.

Choir:  Oh, wait nooooo! He left a whiny, bearded wombat after those 15 years. Excuse us for the small but pathetic mistaaaaake. 

Why do I suddenly feel like scratching my arms and legs until they bleed? 

Choir: Because yoiu haven't washed yourself for 15 years and your arms and legs start to iiiiiitch?

That's probably it lol!!! 

A Plague of LightLunch Eaters

Still waiting for my flavour

I tear the chicken limb from limb

I am a prophet who is

going to eat his folooweeeeeeeeeeeeeer

I sit alone and hungry

awaiting this one meal

now I am eating bread and

I am about to eat the veeeeeeeeeal

i am a man who can smell bread

I move to the fridge and

begin to spreaaaaaaaaaaaad

Aaaaaaaaaaaaaagh!

I prophesy a fast and then I count the calories....
I dine but, dining, dying,
I know that I am almost obese.
On the table lies an empty plate, my chicken to the bone
I only have blunt knives, I only have the bluntest spooooooooooooooon....

I've been the eater, and the seal of spread
lingers in the butter that is on my bread.
When you see the skeletons of a lifeless thin body I know
You'll begin to wonder if the diet you are on is working at all
and solemnly connected to the
maaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaall...

No time now for nutrition
you must eat all junk food
The walls of your stomach are awaiting
and if I weigh I'll crack the scales.
So I only think on how my weight has gained,
looking at my reflection, myself to blaaaaaaaaaaame

Anyway, I'm much too heavy to stand
and, as the scales are thrown away
into the trash can, I turn on the fan....
...and find that I am overweight...

'More veal, More veal!' overweight man screamed
and opened the fridge to find,
bread, jam, butter, milk, chicken drumsticks...
no steaks until I die:
the chocolate ice cream in the freezer
iceblocks, condensed tins
only intent on consuming what you’ve got.

I crawl away on the dusty floor till I cower to the stairs and then l fall;

(someone finish this) 

I don't want to see one hand in the freezer
But meat will drag me deep
One more haggard OBESE MAN...
I can see the dieticians coming, but I know I'm just an eater;
Do I eat or do I abstain? Which choice is the best for me?

“Hey, hey” gnome fridgemen scream and jump out of the fridge,

not breaking through my munching squeaks -no breaks until I die.

The gnomes now scratch on my belly fat,

the hollowed faces and mindless grins,

are only intend on taking away all my food.

I crawl the wall till steepness ends in the vertical fall;

the gnomes now shriek and leave my bleak -no food left for me now.

Those gnomes whine in the heart of mine,

their cruel thievery leave my thoughts so dark

and parallel my now empty fridge...

No parasailing gnome to blame,

they’re all gone in the night.

The beaver lives inside me; yes, I can feel him chew.

Sometimes he builds a dam in the quiet of my bowels;

but then my feces can’t really get outside,

this constipation gives me a nasty pain inside. 

Yes, the beaver lives. 

Beelzebub lives inside me, I can feel the flies;

their presence is itchy and disturbs the peace in my mind

and their germs enter wounds that I forgot. 

They open them and make me feel

sick, more than ever before

while Beelzebub lives. 

Climb into a tree?

Where do I find kelp?

In the sea of pee?

Should I look somewhere else?

But, stalked by crazy oysters I find kelp in seas of doom

and Death’s throws his cloak into the corner of my room

and reveals his doom - 

but, still inside the sea I see a prankster in the kelp

and suddenly an oyster starts acting like a goof

in this strange spoof. 

Garden gnomes, live inside me and often I can’t recall their names;

they are a tad dissapinted; well, I hope they won’t explode. 

I’m just a man, and pirates, parasailers, all are these,

aliens, harlequins, drugged athletes in war and peace

as long as man lives...

I’m just a man, and truckers, wombats, all are these:

transvestites, potbellied pigs, mad dentists.

OMG ISH HE RLY RECORDIGN IT??!1!!1! 

choir: HE HAS RECORDED SOME OF IT!!!

Choir:
Won’t you please, please kelp me!

he recoooooooooooooooooooooooorded iiiiiiiiiiiiiit

Some call me WOMBAT others have me PATTI

Some name me PIRATE... I am unborn. 

Some speak of me in anagrams,

some grieve upon my wart...

the ones who give me beverages

I grant soft-porn. 

My words are 

‘Fool’, ‘lolwut’, ‘wtf’ and ‘k’;

My home is in Atlantis and Finland. 

My name is locked in silence,

sometimes it’s whispered out of spite,

I shy away,

my introverted kindness,

there is no place for fright. 

Will you please come to me

and love me for one more night?

Some see me whining, others have me dull;

bum and mason - I am ALL. 

Some swear they never 

see me quoting myself...

at the moment of the post see them fall!

Some die as they see me urinating,

defecating and vomiting:

troublesome constipation is my pall. 

My faces is robed in choclate,

sometimes it’s cleaned in the bath,

dead writer’s fool,

they are so weak and fragile,

and I like them to play with me.

Will you now crawl to me

and love me for one more day?

Some wish me empty others have me full,

some seek for my hands - I’m a GNOME.

Some look for me in gardens,

some trace me in the woods,

my mathematic plunders:

are no good.

I chronicle my poems,

my stories and my lull,

my pirate voice shall progress

- it is done.

My soul is cast is potato chips

yet unrevealed in open bag.

Sometimes I cry with the appropriate emoticon

and all ease is mine.

Will you not run for me

and love me for on more life, fool?!

Poor gnomes,
with their souls forever trapped
in clay or whatever stuff
they make garden gnomes
out of . . .

choir: THE OWLS ARE NOT WHAT THEY SEEM!!! 

Yeah! They just aren't what they seen! I bet they actually are gnomes in odd coats as well!

When Alfred Jarry drew an owl it looked like a vase! When Alfred Jarry drew a vase it looked like an owl! 

I wandered lonely as a gnome
That stands tall at the back of the garden,
When all at once I saw a colony,
An army, of atomic super ants;
In the nest, beneath the sticks,
Urinating and carrying various small objects in the breeze.

Choir: The epic title track in particular is full of frightening dissonance, coming in the form of creepy violin playing, reverberated shouts of angst, and intense improvisation!

Squuuuuuuuueeeeeeze my lemon!

PG:
Alan Rolls his Royce again.
Jon:
That’s kha-true, but what’s the blend?
It makes sense if it’s Drum White.
PG:
Jon, I think you’re right.

Like a gnome without its hat

creeps the wombat

over the streets of the city

and we all pity

his flattened-turd-shaped nose.

A Tribute To Vompatti - Tunnelvision

This morning I went to the toilet

having a stomachache

I dropped my pants and sat down

for about 20 minutes 

flows of diarrhea 

and solid chunks 

of feces came out

leaving a burned feeling. 

I bet it was the outside

that appeared so temping 

but in the end it was just

a plunge into the toilet

and the final minutes

of their pathetic lives

before being flushed 

down to hell, 

with its demonic rats

and cats - 

no, not cats. 

Still going strong

Choir Yes they are still going stroooooooooooong

LaBrie: Phantasmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagoria!:

Choir:  Phantasmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagoria!

daleks :  Phantasmaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagoria! Exteeeeeeeeeeeeeerminaaaaaaaaaaate!

Supreme dalek:  Exteeeeeeeeeeeeeerminaaaaaaaaaaate!

Dalek Sek: Exteeeeeeeeeeeeeerminaaaaaaaaaaate!

Dalek Prog: Exteeeeeeeeeeeeeerminaaaaaaaaaaate!@ ^%$%#$%@$#@!*&^*&%&^%&^$^%#$@#$%@

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Choir: I wonder what that final purple line sounds like!

We will sooooooooooooooooooouuuuuuuuuuund very weeeeeeeeeeeeiiiiiiiiiiiirrrrrrrrddddddddddddddd

liiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiikkkkkkkkkkkeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaalllllllllliiiiiiiieeeeeeeeeeennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnssssssssssss iiiiiiiiiiiiinnnnnnn sssppppppaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaccccccccccccccccccccccccceeeee.

Choir: the faceless watcher, he makes me uneasy... 

OMG OMG that line was soooooooooo cheesy!

Choir: yet it's better than anything you ever wrote!

Choir: He has no problem with that OH NO he has no probleeeeemm....with that!

Magma chant:

He points his ears

he has no fears

no souvenirs

of XXXX beers

no bandoliers

or conveniers

or massive steers

to sell my wares

Vander: hey wares doesnt rhyme

annoying girl  : it does with my accent

Choir: accent, fax sent, back rent, accident

Female: Laxative, faxative, backs are if, accideve

Male: moron, four on, pour on, store on

Choir: (high pitch) blazing, amazing, phasing, grazing

goes up an octave

Choir: accent, fax sent, back rent, accident

Female: Laxative, faxative, backs are if, accideve

Male: moron, four on, pour on, store on

Choir: (high pitch) blazing, amazing, phasing, grazing

 goes up higher

Choir: accent, fax sent, back rent, accident

Female: Laxative, faxative, backs are if, accideve

Male: moron, four on, pour on, store on

Choir: (high pitch) blazing, amazing, phasing, grazing

goes up ridiculoously high!

Choir: accent, fax sent, back rent, accident

Female: Laxative, faxative, backs are if, accideve

Male: moron, four on, pour on, store on

Choir: (high pitch) blazing, amazing, phasing, graziiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing

*Everything goes quiet suddenly, sheep sounds are heard*

Solo voice: ....on the grass, the seven sheep are marching
Toward the rising sun in the east
Where, upon their arrival, they will feast
On some wildebeest

The wildebeest steps to the microphone: MOOOOOUUUUUURRRRRRRRRR MMOOOOOOOOURRREER

Cud chewer: Munch MOoonONONch MPPODHNC MONDNDNDN MUchchchchnchhcnchch

Annoying girl: My wildebeest is made of yeast

I had a feast and wind needs to be released

Huge fart is heard

Now I have been released

I can feast on my wildebeast

As east is east at least

I have been teased

with the greater of ease

those daring young men

in their flyyyyyyyyyyyying maaaaaaaaaaaaachiiiiiiiiiiiines 

so when we use our mind and take a step out of time

we can do anything

that we want to do

with our handy dandy note book!

sue me

The Trial of AtomicCrimsonRush

(2-minute instrumental prelude)

Rock singer: All rise for judge...

Judge:
So how do you plead?

ACR:
Not guilty.

Defense:
Indeed!

Hysterical woman:
Go repay your fines!

Plaintiff:
We all know what you’ve done,
the finale has begun.

[Snoring sounds: The defendant is resting.]

Sleeep...sleeeeep...for tomorrow ye shall wake and be found...

ACR: i admit the deed!

Attorney: what deed?

ACR: THE deed!

Prosecutor: THE deed?

ACR: Yes, THE deed!

Prosecutor: THE deed, huh? The one where you stole a perfectly good verse from a perfectly annoying childrens TV show?

ACR: Yeah that!

Prosecutor: M'lud note exhibit A

Jury: Exhibit AAAAAAAAAAAA!

Prosecutor: er yeah,  exhibit A

Jury: Exhibit AAAAAAAAAAAA!

Judge: Let us seeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee, exhibit AAAAAAAAAAAAA!

Prosecutor: read it to the jury so all can be awaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaare.

Judge: (reading) so when we use our mind and take a step out of time

we can do anything

that we want to do

with our handy dandy note book!

You jerk! Thats from a TV show!

ACR: I know that.

Prosecutor: Which one?

Jury: BLUES CLUES!

Prosecutor: Which one?

Jury: BLUES CLUES!

Prosecutor: THAT one?

Jury: BLUES CLUES!

Prosecutor: I KNow that one?

Jury: BLUES CLUES!

Judge: Shuttup!

Jury: SORRY!

Judge: Minute-guy, are you recording this?

Minute-guy: I'm recording it!

Jury: OH NO!!! NOT AGAIN!!! If he records it again, I'll kill him!!!

Black Minutes of Memorial Sand?

I've always thought of you

as a fragile little gnome

in my home where a condom

devours the mosquitos and flies

and a moonman laughs about it

with his shriek he cracks the walls

and leaves me without any protection

of the cold wind that feels like a ice cube

jumping out of a glass of other little ice cubes

and a man wearing a raincoat and a yellow hat

tells the children to stay aware of the bogeyman

that roams the silent streets at night and yells words

......................................oh.................yeah..................oh...................yeah!!!...!!....!!.........!!.......like "hey", "yo" and lines like "why did you eat my chocolate?!"

Eurovision guy: and here is the contestant for Finland, Viktor Vompatti, with his song "WTF IMMA PYRAT LOL!".