“This Little Town” and “The Self-Proclaimed Ordinary Man Who Decided to Sell His Soul”

THIS LITTLE TOWN

The town slouched at the bottom of the hill
Looking like any other town
Which happens to do the same

The Mayor's heart was smashed
(his wife ran off with the gardener)
Mrs. Grey's heart was smashed
(her daughter was killed in a car crash)
The Vicar's heart was smashed
(his beloved dog had cancer)

And so on

Meeting after meeting
Debate after debate
Then

It was decided

There would be no more Sorrow
Admitted through the gates

First to go were the clocks
It would not do to be reminded
Of Time's ravenous maw
Next, the photographs - for
What were memories but
Time's hoggish minions

Then the grass was painted brown
To please the six people
Who despised the colour green
The Vicar disposed of his sick dog
Miss Steel dug up her prize roses
Since the Mayor could no longer stand gardens
And as Mr Silver's cat yowled
Every time he heard a B flat
The piano in the Town Hall
Had its lid glued shut.

One day a stranger came to town and
Remarked that a musical instrument forced into silence
Was the saddest thing he'd ever seen.

The townsfolk stared at him then
Using up the thirty seven words
They still permitted themselves
Asked him to leave.

 

THE SELF-PROCLAIMED ORDINARY MAN WHO DECIDED TO SELL HIS
SOUL

A self-proclaimed -
(well, read the title, you'll get the idea)
He was interested to see
What price he'd get
And,
He was a wee bit bored.

He stepped out of his soul
And folded it neatly in his back pocket

He asked God first
(best stick with the good guys, he figured)
But God wasn't buying

"My child, this is not really my forte.
What does your soul have to offer me?"

"I dunno.
I'm just an Ordinary Man."

"Well, I didn't make you that way."

He went to Hell
Where Lucifer greeted him,
Pitchfork in hand.

"Hey, Luce,
What will you give me for my soul?"

"YOUR soul? Ha!
What use is that to me?
Look:

I have Henry VIII looking sad and forlorn
(all those wives and not once did he mourn)
There's Rodrigo Borgia fizzing with malice
Feeding Savonarola out of his chalice
Hitler's got his own eternal crooner
None other than Sammy Davis Junior
And the waiting list is pretty long
(though boybands move higher with every song)
I'm waiting for Death to give OJ a shout
Though sadly, on Castro, the jury's still out
(Che got to go Up cos of the angels he pleases
With his somewhat uncanny likeness to Jesus)

So, with all that seen and all that said
What price should I put on your little head?"

"I dunno.
I'm just an Ordinary Man."

"Well, I didn't make you that way."

"But..."

"Oops, need to put on my hooves for the tour Virgil's
giving
You know how it is - gotta make a living.
(And I do so hope you liked the rhyme
Took lessons from Homer - he's still serving his
time.)"

So the self-proclaimed Ordinary Man went back to
earth,
Soul in pocket
And a little bit glum.

And for the whole time
He had wandered dominions
Without his soul
He hadn't even noticed
It was gone.

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