(Banks, Collins, Gabriel, Hackett, Rutherford)
Archive 1967-75, 1998
The Lamb Lies Down On Broadway, 1974
The moment of impact bursts through the silence and
in a roar of sound,
the final second is prolonged in a world of echoes as if
and clay of Broadway itself was reliving its memories.
The last great
march past. Newsman stands limp as a whimper as
audience and event are
locked as one. Bing Crosby coos "You don't have to
feel pain to sing
the blues, you don't have to holla - you don't feel a
thing in your
dollar collar." Martin Luther King cries "Everybody
Sing!" and rings
the grand old liberty bell. Leary, weary of his prison
cell, walks on
heaven, talks on hell. J.F.K. gives the O.K. to shoot
us, sipping Orange
Julius and Lemon Brutus. Bare breasted cowboy
double decks the triple
champion. Who needs Medicare and the 35c flat rate
fare, when Fred
Astaire and Ginger Rogers are dancing through the air?
Melody stereotypes the band returns to 'Stars and
a tear to the moonshiner, who's been pouring out his
spirit from the
illegal still. The pawn broker clears the noisy till and
lucky dollar bill.
Echoes of the Broadway Everglades,
With her mythical madonnas still walking in their shades:
Lenny Bruce, declares a truce and plays his other hand.
Marshall Mcluhan, casual viewin', head buried in the sand.
Sirens on the rooftops wailing, but there's no ship sailing.
Groucho, with his movies trailing, stands alone with his punchline
Klu Klux Klan serve hot soul food and the band plays 'In the Mood'
The cheerleader waves her cyanide wand, there's a smell of
peach blossom and bitter almonde.
Caryl Chessman sniffs the air and leads the parade, he knows
in a scent, you can bottle all you made.
There's Howard Hughes in blue suede shoes, smiling at the
majorettes smoking Winston Cigarettes.
And as the song and dance begins, the children play at home
with needles; needles and pins.
Then the blackout.