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SCENE 7

Shaun Ryder & the Whore of Babylon are travelling tho Hell; there are sounds of clapping hands, screams of anguish, haunted sighs, lamentations, loud wailing, strange tongues, moans of terror, groans of pain

BABYLONIAN WAY

Whore of Babylon
Way down deep in Babylonian way
There’s a man named Alister Crowley
All he was misunderstood
& Hitler was the geezer
A gateway to the underworld
He signed his soul away in Jewish blood

Have you heard the word
Of the madman’s bad intention
Have ya heard the absurd word
Of the men to bad to mention
Did they come in your dimension
Did I mention my dementia

Ghengiz Khan never meant no harm
He was a mongel man directed
By beings form the nether realm
His essence intercepted
& Torquemada was the leader
Of the Spanish inquisition
& in the name of God he burnt them all
Til the witches & the warlocks won his soul

Have you heard the word
Of the madman’s bad intention
Heard the absurd word
Of the men to bad to mention
Did they come in your dimension
Did I mention his pretensions

Enter Satan

Well, I went up to Northern Ireland,
Met the Captain of the IRA,
I said, “Look here son, yer better take this gun, better blow those Brits away.
Well, the Brits dropp’d the bomb on Belgrade,
But Slobodan he would not go,
So, the Yanks sent the tanks & the banks took the flanks,
Now they’re all as dead as a Dando,
When you go to war, you’d better find a cause worth fighting for.

Well, I met old Vercingetorix as he took on
The mighty hordes of Ceaser,
But the battle was fixed ‘cos the Gaul’s rain-sticks
Didn’t work on the field of Alesia
Then, I had me a line o’ Charlie as we flew up to Inverness,
Where the Bonnie Prince & his men got minced
Now the moor is a bloody mess,
When you go to war, you’d better find a cause worth fighting for.
What are we fighting for
Were fighting for our future
The future of our planet
At the Armageddon dome

Shaun Ryder
I met the star of the morning
At his capital in Hades
He said

Satan
Look here son
I bet ya glad ya come
Here’s your coke, here’s ya bass here’s ya ladies

Jezebels
When yo go to war
You’d better find a cause
Worth fighting for

Satan
What are we fighting for
We’re fighting for our future
The future of the planet
At the Armageddon dome

& the time is now & I’ll tell you somehow
We can make this world a better place
Gui-tars, drumkit, vocals & bass
We’ll make this world a better place
if we try (rpt.)

Enter the Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

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THE MAN & THE MUSIC

Four Riders
We’re the advertised, low-down motherfuckin’ band
We heard for the hoedown ya needin a hand
Got mountains of vinyl lyin’ at home
Band full of ravers stoned to the bone
Stoned to the bone

& I say
Hey pretty ladies don’t you look so fine
Gonna make ya mine
Gonna play a little pussy chord
When they say he’s got all the best tunes, it true
I know that ya like, it I’m liking it to
The man & the music coo-coo-cachoo

If ya can use it, just don’t refuse it
This wonderful music

Were gonna have a party & a party
Celebrate the union of woman & man
Gonna do it do it like a minstrel
Doing the best we possibly can
Cos its Babababagorath
{goin’ round in circles}
Bababagorath
{king of the serpents}
Do wop & do do ya best to serve us
Fine & regal style & splendour

Well we heard
Someone calling for the mother fuckin calvalry
So the midnight band are gonna play for free
We’ve been hit with the final license to roam
Dangerous daylight starting to dawn
When stoned to the bone

Hey pretty ladies don’t you look so fine
Gonna make ya mine
Gonna play a little pussy chord
When they say he’s got all the best tunes, it true
I know that ya like, it I’m liking it to
The man & the music coo-coo-cachoo

If ya gon choose it, just don’t abuse it
This wonderful music

Were gonna have a party & a party…

Were gonna have a party & a party
Celebrate the union of woman & man
Gonna do it do it like a minstrel
Doing the best we can
Cos its Babababagorath
{goin’ round in circles}
Bababagorath
{king of the serpents}
Do wop & do do ya best to serve us
Fine & regal style & splendour

We’re gonna have a party & a party
We’re gonna get it properly started
& we’ll invite the pieces to the party
& then we’ll get the company charterd
& we’ll invite the piss’d & the arty
& then we’ll get the company charterd

Shaun
Babababa fucking Gorath – what the fucks all that about

Satan
Just one of my names, boy – but you can call me… Bez

Shaun
Bez !

Satan
In Kentucky I’m the A-train
In Atlanta call me sugar cane
In Memphis I’m known as Slim
In West Texas I’m a mandhandler
& a cool panhandler
In Detroit they call me hip Kitty from New York city
& out of the States all my jivehoof mates
Call me the Beast
I’m mad & bad & you ought to be glad you aren’t trying to clip me because my thinkpad would tip me to the knockout play which might make me take it in the wrong way – dig

Shaun
Have you been on the DMT, you’re proper babbling, pal

Satan
Enough of the formal warm-ups
Welcome to my home, my pile of stone, bro
I’m mellow as a cello, fine as red wine
I dig your pegs, they make you look
Like Robin Hood in Harlem

Shaun
Eh

Satan
I heard yer gumbeat’s on the backbeat
& with my lushpad on a three pointer
I digs the play
So, are you home boy or a perfect square
Well, if you’re mellow, baby, understand
I’m the accelerator
Putting down a righteous shpiel

Shaun
What the fuck are you on about mate

Shaun
Pops I’m tops
I’m with it & I won’t quit it
I’m down with action to my own satisfaction
Do you dig

Shaun
No, I don’t fuckin’ dig

Whore of Babylon
What he’s trying to say is, this is your band

Shaun
My band ?

Satan
Indeeddiddlydo!
Cop a trot to the dommy of that solid little banter
Cos these other cats are swinging the bears, brother

Shaun
Alright lads, I’m Shaun Ryder, what are your names, &, ehm, whaddaya play

War
I am War, I am on drums

Plague
I am Plague, I play the bass

Famine
I am Famine, I play the gee-tah

Death
I am Death, I play… the tuba

Shaun
The fucking Tuba

Death
I can play the French Horn, too

Shaun Ryder
Yeah, whatever

Satan
Solid, ole man, solid
They don’t need no snitchin in the hype
& you’re as groovy as a ten cent movie
You’ll just be in time at a quarter past nine
& if you’re right your bright, so
Let’s flail & wail on Bez’s mighty mez
{getting out a massive reefer}
Let’s snip a paper dolly at the rolltop piano
& ad lib, all thro the crib, ya dig

Shaun
I dig

Whore of Babylon
Aha – you are beginning to understand the language of the Master

Shaun
Well, he’s speaking my language now, innee

Satan
{Passing the spliff to Shaun}
If I’s a-mugglin’, you’s a-mugglin’

Shaun
Woah – that’s the best stuff I’ve ever fucking had

Whore of Babylon
Well, this is Hell after all – everyone knows the Devil has the best tune, but that’s mainly down to the fact he’s got the best drugs toos

Satan
Hey reefer man
Spread the stick of tea
To the vipers in the toot-suits
Ya hogging the joy brother

Shaun
Sorry

Satan
Up there, above this house of many slammers
The way your jive was dropping,
Slicing chops, was hopping
That’s why ya gonna tweet my songs little birdie
You’ll be on the scene, wearin’ the green
& knock them out without a doubt
Let’s slay that skull, Jesus, & his Johns
All jacking the gong, lets get out west in our vest
& take them all to a cold meat party, ya dig

Shaun
I dig, bro

Satan
Good, well it’s time to flit from the pit
& spin this shit
Let’s hoochie coochie people

Exit all being led by Satan to some funky grooves