Based on Ukraine 2021
Go_A — Shum
Every time I leave my house, I’m filled with fear and loathing
Will they be there on the corner, dressed in shabby clothing?
Homeless people aren’t so bad, I find them rather funny,
I just hate musicians playing in the street for money.
Anger rising, patience being tested
I would like to see them all arrested
Playing, playing, playing, playing instruments at me
Failing, failing, failing, failing, they don’t impress me.
[STREET MUSICIAN CONTINUES TO PLAY INCESSANTLY]
Barely stepped outside, I see a dirty violinist
In the park is perched a rather threatening-looking cellist
When I reach my office, there’s a drummer in the lobby
Why can’t all these people find a less intrusive hobby?
No no no no, I find to my horror
There’s a flautist hiding in my desk drawer
“Hey you, hey you, hey you, hey you, stop it!” I hiss, and
Spray her, spray her, spray her, spray her, with a plant mister.
Busy morning, trying to forget this
But I hear a distant clarinetist
Where, oh where, oh where, oh where? My life is so unfair
Tell my boss I’m going home to sleep off this nightmare.
[EXIT, PURSUED BY MUSICIANS]
[A TRIANGLE PINGS, SIGNALLING THE ATTACK]
Help me someone, help me someone, can’t you see what I see?
Why does no-one notice there’s an orchestra behind me?
People stare as I run past, but only hear my screaming
Is the music just for me or am I only dreaming?
In my house I can’t believe I’m seeing
A trombonist hanging from my ceiling
Pray, I pray, I pray, I pray, it’s fiction not fact and
Run upstairs and in my room, and try to relax, but
No no no no, someone’s in my bedroom
A guitarist brandishing a plectrum
“So you, so you, so you, so you, thought you’d escape us?
Now you’ll see what happens when you don’t respect buskers…”