Lord Of The Isles

In the split second after awakening, the author is momentarily convinced that there is a man on the stairs below, with the legs of a hare. He claims he has never been so scared in all his life.

We must swiftly make away across the sordid sea
And there's one in the front and there's one in the back
That's the Lord of the Isles and me
We must swiftly make away because the tide is turning now
And the wind blows down the Northern Sound
Across the starboard bow

I was up with the lark in the morning and dancing attendance today
Severing souls begging in bowls to the moon in the scorpion's house tonight
Crawling down on my hands and my knees in the sand and the salt and the clay
Looking for something I'd left behind hidden between the tides

But I'm easily scared
By the sound of the wind and the creak of a stair
The cry of the morning the legs of a Hare
The cry of the morning the fun of the fair

But if all of our cups were in the cupboard m'dear
Things would be so nice
So I said to myself as I swung the shovel m'dear
And I tried to break the ice
And the wind is blowing Westward Ho!
Witanegemote and wise
And I'm scared to look to the left now
In case the cats should scratch out my eyes
And my Piscean qualities

Roll the drums along the causeway
Grit your teeth in the face of the gale
This is the bit you've been waiting for
And the part of the story I've been longing to tell
How I was only speculating
When his lordship found me there
I was kicking my heels and posing for tourists
On the side of the road off the Albion square
He asked me twenty questions
So I told him twenty lies
He was as rich and disenchanting
As I was ripe for the slaughter and ready to buy
He said He'd make me happy
Said He'd run the whole world through
To give me the piece of his mind I'd been asking for
And the keys to his flat in the barbican too
He said that he wrote for the 'Maker'
From his flat off the Bayswater Road
Said he'd make me his man of the moment
Give me silver and gold

But the cat got a hold of his tongue
He was thick as two planks and about half as much fun
Disarmingly charming unloading his gun
Charity chooses the chosen and I was the chosen one

We must swiftly make away across the sordid sea
And with Allan's death avenged in blood
It's as banal as it's meaningless filthy and obscene
And over the crest of the combers crows
The north wind wreathed in smiles
And the moon sinks low in Scorpio
Beyond the sceptered isles

Intro. F# G#m A# B C#
Verse B G#m
Chorus F# C#m E B G#m
Middle 8 B G# F#