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A tartalmat a Geordie McElroy biztosítja. Az összes podcast-tartalmat, beleértve az epizódokat, grafikákat és podcast-leírásokat, közvetlenül a Geordie McElroy vagy a podcast platform partnere tölti fel és biztosítja. Ha úgy gondolja, hogy valaki az Ön engedélye nélkül használja fel a szerzői joggal védett művét, kövesse az itt leírt folyamatot https://hu.player.fm/legal.
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Manage episode 447462524 series 3611577
A tartalmat a Geordie McElroy biztosítja. Az összes podcast-tartalmat, beleértve az epizódokat, grafikákat és podcast-leírásokat, közvetlenül a Geordie McElroy vagy a podcast platform partnere tölti fel és biztosítja. Ha úgy gondolja, hogy valaki az Ön engedélye nélkül használja fel a szerzői joggal védett művét, kövesse az itt leírt folyamatot https://hu.player.fm/legal.

NIGHTMARE ON 34TH STREET: A XMAS GROTESQUE

Words + Music by Geordie McElroy

***

Part 1

What is the color of Christmas?

The white of untouched snow?

The green of a Douglas Fir

Or ceaseless mistletoe?

Could it be the red of stockings?

Or yule-log’s golden breath?

No. The color of Christmas is black

Black of a moonless winter's night

The black of coal in the abyss

The black of death

***

Koopman’s Department Store presents:

The 12 Days of Christmas

Grand Parade to city conveyed

This season big business

Announcer from Channel Thirteen

Mic picked up howling wind

Nor’easter of the century

From Greenland rolling in

Each float branded to perfection

Each with a sponsored theme

Franzenstein gingerbread houses

Toscani nativity scenes

They rolled along 34th street

Up to Koopman’s revolving door

Where Steve and his wife Portia throned

King and Queen of the store

A masterpiece of art nouveau

Engulfing block, tower

Dazzling retail cathedral

Where hard won coin showered

The windows full of season’s displays

Gorgeous crystalline glass

Each winter fantasies

Available for cash

Announcer spoke up: “Here she comes

It’s Mercedes Koopman

Steve and Portia’s only daughter

With her vocal debut”

The pre-teen rode high on a float

Promoting her own brand

Hawking neon fast fashion

And song without a band

Just as Mercedes started up

Before her vocals dropped

Announcer said: “Wait… here comes Santa Claus?

And he’s coming in hot”

Santa revved red convertible

Madness flashed in his eyes

He aimed full speed for Koopman’s store

Mercedes forced to dive

The crash destroyed the singer’s float

As Santa stripped his clothes

Revealing a Satan suit beneath

To the crowd he exposed

Something from out of his waistband

From crotch depth fustiness

He waved it around and yodeled:

“The hammer of justice!”

With hardware Santa Claus screaming:

“You bourgeois pigs must die

This one goes out to you, my Pearl”

Blue-haired girl averted eyes

He raised the groin-secreted tool

Shattered Koopman’s displays

Screamed about theory of labor

And radical cliches

Christian protestors turned their backs

So-called allies turned tail

Couldn’t even rally the winos

Alone, his riot failed

Just then, behind them, explosion

Mercedes float caught fire

Her fast fashion went up in flames

Sizzling cheap attire

And yet, her vocals still running

Spinning like an axle rod

Santa screaming: “Revolution!”

Wrangled by cattle prod

The nor’easter winds blew wicked

Toppling cameras smashed

As cops hauled off Santa Claus

Video cut to black

***

In dungeon cell at lighthouse foot

The darkest part of town

Orphan Noel’s dead-hour vigil

As beam spun round and round

Thirteen years through bars and barbed wire

St. Nick's School's stagnant view

The dump, trash barges, and canneries

But tonight… Something new?

Out in black harbor, an unmanned ship

Lurched on storm from the north

It rammed into rotting pilings

Impaled itself on wharf

Figure in seal furs rowed life raft

Into a shadowed drain

Where the refuse of the city spewed

The gaping sewer main

***

Noel sang her hopes of Christmas

Gnawing wait made her sick

She longed to be at the North Pole

Re-connect with St. Nick

The 25th was her birthday

Only 12 days away

When she would graduate from here

Head home on reindeer sleigh

As long as she could remember

Noel pursued one goal:

To be the best in the stable

To work and do as told

Her dream, making St. Nick shine

To bask in his glow cast on her

She was willing to die for him

Her lord and her master

Dozing orphans surrounded Noel

Chained to cots in the dark

Noel kept warm in the bitter stone cell

Hope providing the spark

Youngest Chloe’s teeth chattering

"The Pole is much colder"

Noel said, giving up blanket

"You'll see when you're older"

“St. Nick needs help on the line

Toil bitter, burlap thin

He has no time to tend to you

Your fire must burn within”

Their conversation echoed out

Waking up Harriet

For Chancellor Remmy she screamed

With hate and despair in it

Remmy entered, pince-nez and coif

Paisley smoking jacket

Even at this witching hour

Simply immaculate

“Now, now, girls you need your rest

So please, let’s squash it

We need you all to look your best

St. Nick’s always watching”

Remmy gestured to the cell wall

Icon of a Cossack

“St. Nick knows if you’re sleeping sound

If you comply or talk back”

The painting showed a savage man

Dropping stash, fangs of gold

Shaved head with topknot hanging down

And jade eyes, tundra cold

With hushed purring of a camera

The Cossack’s gaze feeding

Remmy said as he was leaving

Above orphans breathing

“Try as you might, he may flunk you

Dolores never slacked

But Nick found her in the lantern room

Now she’s buried out back”

***

Lt. Dunn arrived at the wharf

Screamed at harbor patrol

Snuffed his smoke into their coffee

And ganked their donut holes

“Tow this vessel across state lines

Out of our jurisdiction”

“I know the plan, I've done it before

It's stuck in this position”

“A rotten way to start the day”

Dunn slugged rum for warming

“Colder than a boo hag’s coochie

What’s what? Inform me”

“She's an ex-Soviet vessel

Rusted and putrid green

Cyrillic writing down her flank

‘North Star’ it seems it means”

“The crew is nowhere to be found

Captain’s chained to the wheel

He’s burned beyond recognition

As to how, it’s not clear”

“There’s no hint of gasoline

Or any accelerant”

“Terrorism? Bio-attack?”

Something malevolent?”

They led Dunn to the cargo hold

And stared into darkness

Bone upon bone way down below

Countless beast carcasses

Flashlight flickered, pyramids stacked

As Dunn asked, “Is that horse?”

“Caribou. The other red meat”

Corpse upon reindeer corpse

***

At 4am the orphans woke

To storm bell clattering

And gathered round for daily routine

In burlap sacks unflattering

Noel set her course on Polaris

And worked with diligence

The only thing more impressive

Was Harriet’s vigilance

Noel strove to be the best

St. Nick’s number one girl

So Harriet hated her guts

Her face and all those curls

The laziest orphan at the school

Harriet, 13, too

St. Nick had room for one top girl

Noel just would not do

Revenge filled Harriet’s day dreams

Slights real and imagined

Waited for Noel to slip up

Spite, her only passion

Remmy spoke of North Pole visions

As girls ate cold fish gruel

He sipped champagne and lectured on

Manners of the old school

Dabbed his mustache with a napkin

Gave diatribes on forks

His knife work was spectacular

His banter fireworks

Taught what plate to anticipate

Which spoon they must use

Which bad habits would start to grate

Which cocktail glass to choose

“Soon you’ll dine on gum drop biscuits

And ginger bread porridge

Candy cane juice, sugar plum pies

North Pole’s standard forage”

Remmy’s lusted for finer things

Crates pilled high filled his room

Beamed up luxuries with deceit

On rocks ships met their doom

Stack upon stack contraband piles

Stores of delicacies

Seized from ship wrecks he salvaged

The false beams legacies

***

After breakfast, orphan hygiene

Freezing water stung them

Single basin for all to share

One toothbrush among them

Post washing came cell inspection

Tidy up cots and dress

Burlap sacks, straw mats worn threadbare

Hard not to look a mess

Then Remmy would walk down the line

“Grace starts with how you stand"

Examined smiles, clothes, and posture

But focused on their hands

“Those hands, those tiny orphan hands

Innocent and fragile

The engine of this operation

So nimble and agile”

***

Then it was time to work the line

Presses, pumps, and bellows

The orphans making ornaments

In reds, greens, and yellows

“Watch your tiny hands, my dears”

Engines, belts, and sprockets

“Once the machine is up to speed

There’s no way to stop it”

An ornament caught Noel’s eye

Made to adorn a tree

“If they look magnificent there

How good they’d look on me”

She hung a pair upon her ears

And searched her reflection

She struck a pose amongst some hose

Flashing bold impression

But Harriet caught her off guard

Too stealthy to be seen

Her rival tried to get revenge

Hand ground in the machine

But Noel smelled Harriet’s breath

Turned into crooked smile

A shove had her tumble on down

Ornaments defiled

Remmy screamed: “Noel, to the pit!

Think you can replace this?

You’ll have ample of time to think on

Your place and what grace is”

***

Noel stewed in the chamber of woe

With cold stone for a pillow

Thinking hard with damp and rot

Pondered peccadillos

Noel seethed and plotted revenge

A thought would not abate

Something she never felt before

A coldness known as hate

***

Back in Koopman’s duplex penthouse

The family stared aghast

Replaying Parade fiasco

A couple hours past

“Isidore Koopman, you fat slob!”

Portia shouted at her step-son

“You always ruin everything

A whole year’s work, undone”

Izzy squeezed into a love seat

Admiring his work

The shiftless 32 year old

Responded with a smirk:

“Christmas is bunk, a hollow lie

A mere capitalist fraud

Consciousness needed to be raised

I employed shock and awe”

“Koopman’s is a family affair

That’s why we hired you

Now the union is furious

What could have inspired you?”

“What do you mean you don’t know?

Everything confessed to

I laid it out elegantly

Didn’t you read my manifesto?”

“Do you mean that pile of scrap paper?

Those crayon scribblings?”

Flo the nanny said: “I read it

Not very convincing”

“You are nothing but a buffoon

You spoiled my parade

Befouled your sisters vocal debut

Shattered peerless displays”

“See those children down there below

They’re waiting for Santa

Each one represents cold hard cash

Please, tell us your plan to…”

“…Find a replacement for the man

This late in the season

The union is blackballing us

Hiring you, treason”

Portia departed with a sigh

Leaving father and son

“I’ll never give up on you, boy

There's still work to be done”

“So, tell me what’s next? What’s your plan?

You know I can’t fire you

What job is best for your passions

Tell me what inspires you”

“Izzy, what is it that you want?”

Steve asked his first-born son

“The only thing I crave: justice

Easier said than done”

“Koopman's is a family operation

Even if things get hard

How much damage could you get into

As security guard?”

***

Dunn arrived at the coroner

Gleaning information

“What the hell happened to captain?

Make identification?”

“His name is Ivan Tankenov

See this skull cross tattoo

Russian gangster? Or Thieves in law?

I'll bet cash that’s his crew”

“But the man wasn't set abalze

No ash or loss of mass”

The captain's arm fell to the floor

“…Well nothing accept for that”

“If he were...

  continue reading

5 epizódok

Artwork
iconMegosztás
 
Manage episode 447462524 series 3611577
A tartalmat a Geordie McElroy biztosítja. Az összes podcast-tartalmat, beleértve az epizódokat, grafikákat és podcast-leírásokat, közvetlenül a Geordie McElroy vagy a podcast platform partnere tölti fel és biztosítja. Ha úgy gondolja, hogy valaki az Ön engedélye nélkül használja fel a szerzői joggal védett művét, kövesse az itt leírt folyamatot https://hu.player.fm/legal.

NIGHTMARE ON 34TH STREET: A XMAS GROTESQUE

Words + Music by Geordie McElroy

***

Part 1

What is the color of Christmas?

The white of untouched snow?

The green of a Douglas Fir

Or ceaseless mistletoe?

Could it be the red of stockings?

Or yule-log’s golden breath?

No. The color of Christmas is black

Black of a moonless winter's night

The black of coal in the abyss

The black of death

***

Koopman’s Department Store presents:

The 12 Days of Christmas

Grand Parade to city conveyed

This season big business

Announcer from Channel Thirteen

Mic picked up howling wind

Nor’easter of the century

From Greenland rolling in

Each float branded to perfection

Each with a sponsored theme

Franzenstein gingerbread houses

Toscani nativity scenes

They rolled along 34th street

Up to Koopman’s revolving door

Where Steve and his wife Portia throned

King and Queen of the store

A masterpiece of art nouveau

Engulfing block, tower

Dazzling retail cathedral

Where hard won coin showered

The windows full of season’s displays

Gorgeous crystalline glass

Each winter fantasies

Available for cash

Announcer spoke up: “Here she comes

It’s Mercedes Koopman

Steve and Portia’s only daughter

With her vocal debut”

The pre-teen rode high on a float

Promoting her own brand

Hawking neon fast fashion

And song without a band

Just as Mercedes started up

Before her vocals dropped

Announcer said: “Wait… here comes Santa Claus?

And he’s coming in hot”

Santa revved red convertible

Madness flashed in his eyes

He aimed full speed for Koopman’s store

Mercedes forced to dive

The crash destroyed the singer’s float

As Santa stripped his clothes

Revealing a Satan suit beneath

To the crowd he exposed

Something from out of his waistband

From crotch depth fustiness

He waved it around and yodeled:

“The hammer of justice!”

With hardware Santa Claus screaming:

“You bourgeois pigs must die

This one goes out to you, my Pearl”

Blue-haired girl averted eyes

He raised the groin-secreted tool

Shattered Koopman’s displays

Screamed about theory of labor

And radical cliches

Christian protestors turned their backs

So-called allies turned tail

Couldn’t even rally the winos

Alone, his riot failed

Just then, behind them, explosion

Mercedes float caught fire

Her fast fashion went up in flames

Sizzling cheap attire

And yet, her vocals still running

Spinning like an axle rod

Santa screaming: “Revolution!”

Wrangled by cattle prod

The nor’easter winds blew wicked

Toppling cameras smashed

As cops hauled off Santa Claus

Video cut to black

***

In dungeon cell at lighthouse foot

The darkest part of town

Orphan Noel’s dead-hour vigil

As beam spun round and round

Thirteen years through bars and barbed wire

St. Nick's School's stagnant view

The dump, trash barges, and canneries

But tonight… Something new?

Out in black harbor, an unmanned ship

Lurched on storm from the north

It rammed into rotting pilings

Impaled itself on wharf

Figure in seal furs rowed life raft

Into a shadowed drain

Where the refuse of the city spewed

The gaping sewer main

***

Noel sang her hopes of Christmas

Gnawing wait made her sick

She longed to be at the North Pole

Re-connect with St. Nick

The 25th was her birthday

Only 12 days away

When she would graduate from here

Head home on reindeer sleigh

As long as she could remember

Noel pursued one goal:

To be the best in the stable

To work and do as told

Her dream, making St. Nick shine

To bask in his glow cast on her

She was willing to die for him

Her lord and her master

Dozing orphans surrounded Noel

Chained to cots in the dark

Noel kept warm in the bitter stone cell

Hope providing the spark

Youngest Chloe’s teeth chattering

"The Pole is much colder"

Noel said, giving up blanket

"You'll see when you're older"

“St. Nick needs help on the line

Toil bitter, burlap thin

He has no time to tend to you

Your fire must burn within”

Their conversation echoed out

Waking up Harriet

For Chancellor Remmy she screamed

With hate and despair in it

Remmy entered, pince-nez and coif

Paisley smoking jacket

Even at this witching hour

Simply immaculate

“Now, now, girls you need your rest

So please, let’s squash it

We need you all to look your best

St. Nick’s always watching”

Remmy gestured to the cell wall

Icon of a Cossack

“St. Nick knows if you’re sleeping sound

If you comply or talk back”

The painting showed a savage man

Dropping stash, fangs of gold

Shaved head with topknot hanging down

And jade eyes, tundra cold

With hushed purring of a camera

The Cossack’s gaze feeding

Remmy said as he was leaving

Above orphans breathing

“Try as you might, he may flunk you

Dolores never slacked

But Nick found her in the lantern room

Now she’s buried out back”

***

Lt. Dunn arrived at the wharf

Screamed at harbor patrol

Snuffed his smoke into their coffee

And ganked their donut holes

“Tow this vessel across state lines

Out of our jurisdiction”

“I know the plan, I've done it before

It's stuck in this position”

“A rotten way to start the day”

Dunn slugged rum for warming

“Colder than a boo hag’s coochie

What’s what? Inform me”

“She's an ex-Soviet vessel

Rusted and putrid green

Cyrillic writing down her flank

‘North Star’ it seems it means”

“The crew is nowhere to be found

Captain’s chained to the wheel

He’s burned beyond recognition

As to how, it’s not clear”

“There’s no hint of gasoline

Or any accelerant”

“Terrorism? Bio-attack?”

Something malevolent?”

They led Dunn to the cargo hold

And stared into darkness

Bone upon bone way down below

Countless beast carcasses

Flashlight flickered, pyramids stacked

As Dunn asked, “Is that horse?”

“Caribou. The other red meat”

Corpse upon reindeer corpse

***

At 4am the orphans woke

To storm bell clattering

And gathered round for daily routine

In burlap sacks unflattering

Noel set her course on Polaris

And worked with diligence

The only thing more impressive

Was Harriet’s vigilance

Noel strove to be the best

St. Nick’s number one girl

So Harriet hated her guts

Her face and all those curls

The laziest orphan at the school

Harriet, 13, too

St. Nick had room for one top girl

Noel just would not do

Revenge filled Harriet’s day dreams

Slights real and imagined

Waited for Noel to slip up

Spite, her only passion

Remmy spoke of North Pole visions

As girls ate cold fish gruel

He sipped champagne and lectured on

Manners of the old school

Dabbed his mustache with a napkin

Gave diatribes on forks

His knife work was spectacular

His banter fireworks

Taught what plate to anticipate

Which spoon they must use

Which bad habits would start to grate

Which cocktail glass to choose

“Soon you’ll dine on gum drop biscuits

And ginger bread porridge

Candy cane juice, sugar plum pies

North Pole’s standard forage”

Remmy’s lusted for finer things

Crates pilled high filled his room

Beamed up luxuries with deceit

On rocks ships met their doom

Stack upon stack contraband piles

Stores of delicacies

Seized from ship wrecks he salvaged

The false beams legacies

***

After breakfast, orphan hygiene

Freezing water stung them

Single basin for all to share

One toothbrush among them

Post washing came cell inspection

Tidy up cots and dress

Burlap sacks, straw mats worn threadbare

Hard not to look a mess

Then Remmy would walk down the line

“Grace starts with how you stand"

Examined smiles, clothes, and posture

But focused on their hands

“Those hands, those tiny orphan hands

Innocent and fragile

The engine of this operation

So nimble and agile”

***

Then it was time to work the line

Presses, pumps, and bellows

The orphans making ornaments

In reds, greens, and yellows

“Watch your tiny hands, my dears”

Engines, belts, and sprockets

“Once the machine is up to speed

There’s no way to stop it”

An ornament caught Noel’s eye

Made to adorn a tree

“If they look magnificent there

How good they’d look on me”

She hung a pair upon her ears

And searched her reflection

She struck a pose amongst some hose

Flashing bold impression

But Harriet caught her off guard

Too stealthy to be seen

Her rival tried to get revenge

Hand ground in the machine

But Noel smelled Harriet’s breath

Turned into crooked smile

A shove had her tumble on down

Ornaments defiled

Remmy screamed: “Noel, to the pit!

Think you can replace this?

You’ll have ample of time to think on

Your place and what grace is”

***

Noel stewed in the chamber of woe

With cold stone for a pillow

Thinking hard with damp and rot

Pondered peccadillos

Noel seethed and plotted revenge

A thought would not abate

Something she never felt before

A coldness known as hate

***

Back in Koopman’s duplex penthouse

The family stared aghast

Replaying Parade fiasco

A couple hours past

“Isidore Koopman, you fat slob!”

Portia shouted at her step-son

“You always ruin everything

A whole year’s work, undone”

Izzy squeezed into a love seat

Admiring his work

The shiftless 32 year old

Responded with a smirk:

“Christmas is bunk, a hollow lie

A mere capitalist fraud

Consciousness needed to be raised

I employed shock and awe”

“Koopman’s is a family affair

That’s why we hired you

Now the union is furious

What could have inspired you?”

“What do you mean you don’t know?

Everything confessed to

I laid it out elegantly

Didn’t you read my manifesto?”

“Do you mean that pile of scrap paper?

Those crayon scribblings?”

Flo the nanny said: “I read it

Not very convincing”

“You are nothing but a buffoon

You spoiled my parade

Befouled your sisters vocal debut

Shattered peerless displays”

“See those children down there below

They’re waiting for Santa

Each one represents cold hard cash

Please, tell us your plan to…”

“…Find a replacement for the man

This late in the season

The union is blackballing us

Hiring you, treason”

Portia departed with a sigh

Leaving father and son

“I’ll never give up on you, boy

There's still work to be done”

“So, tell me what’s next? What’s your plan?

You know I can’t fire you

What job is best for your passions

Tell me what inspires you”

“Izzy, what is it that you want?”

Steve asked his first-born son

“The only thing I crave: justice

Easier said than done”

“Koopman's is a family operation

Even if things get hard

How much damage could you get into

As security guard?”

***

Dunn arrived at the coroner

Gleaning information

“What the hell happened to captain?

Make identification?”

“His name is Ivan Tankenov

See this skull cross tattoo

Russian gangster? Or Thieves in law?

I'll bet cash that’s his crew”

“But the man wasn't set abalze

No ash or loss of mass”

The captain's arm fell to the floor

“…Well nothing accept for that”

“If he were...

  continue reading

5 epizódok

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