Blognostication Number Three: The End of the End of the World

Last one. If I remember correctly, David and I had sketched out the overall outline of the show before we figured out what we were going to call it. I have no idea how long it took us to settle on End of the World (or why it wasn't THE End of the World), but we must have accumulated at least an hour of just throwing potential names around. I think the first one that I was actually pushing for was A Walk on the Wooly Side, which David rightfully explained I should never use as a title for anything ever.


We knew we were going to have to close the show on a song; like an actual song, not a fake hoedown or a Disney parody. So one night I was walking back from the mailbox, grumbling about the water bill and imagining that Armageddon might actually have a comparatively liberating feel to it when a melody line popped into my head. Everything suddenly clicked.


No, I'm not going to try to describe the song's melody in a blog. Just know that the song does in fact have a melody (it's in my head now) and it's one of the things I'm quite fond of having written.


It's worth mentioning that to really give the song its big finish production value I needed ten words that rhymed with 'world'. I had six. I'm not above taking some creative liberties with the English language.

End of the World

The result of tossing dice
Is a series of unfairness
Every simple vice is a standard price
That entices vague awareness.

You can aim for heights to fly

And then settle for a glide.

But if you focus on the stop,

You miss the ride.

But at the end of the world.

At the end of the world.
With our minds aligned, entwined in wisdom pearled.
We need the local dunce and common git

To make the cosmic jigsaw puzzle fit.
It's our craft unfurled at the end of the world.

You know our life's novella swan
It reads 'contents under pressure'.
And conclusion's pawn is a stroke foregone
Or it was drawn by M.C. Escher.

But the protagonist detects
That there's a story in the news.
It's only choose your own adventure when you
Choose

And at the end of the world.

At the end of the world.
We'll be slumbering like lumber milled and birled.
Into the mouth of madness. Hope it laughed,

Because our crest at best is rather daft.
It's our nerve unfurled at the end of the world.

Now when you're trudging through the grudgedness and up against asymmetry
Remember life is not an opera; it's a chorale in every key.
You know there's room in that hand basket for every bore and misery.
Somebody tell Saint Pete to save a seat for me.

When that Omega dance is open call there's not a line to the abyss.
Go on, put on apocalypse-stick, and give the kiss of death a kiss.
Forget the RSVP, no regrets and there's nothing left to bring.
And everyone thank T.S. Eliot because we have a song to sing.

At the end of the world.

At the end of the world.
When that bounding main gets drained, debuoyed and girled.
It's kind of sad to know it couldn't last,

But by God we had ourselves a blast.
And it's bells unfurled at the end of the world.

At the end of the world.

At the end of the world.
We're reviled, beguiled, destyled, premoussed and squirreled.
We'll have our judgement day without a judge

And we'll say no more, grin, wink, and nudge.
And it's drapes unfurled at the end of the world.

At the end of the world.
At the end of the world.
With every rotten shot forgot and insult hurled.
That final maelstrom welcomes every dive
And in lore we'll score a perfect five.
And it's sails unfurled
Tales uncurled
We'll be whirled, swirled, twirled at the end of the world.