Twas the week before tour... Thank you Kaine Delay, our very own Clement Clark Moore!! Very clever sir!! Twas the month before Christmas, when all through the land Not a singer was stirring, not even a band; The fans all hung by the venue doors with care, In the hopes that Skinny Puppy soon would be there; The rivetheads were nestled all in leather gear; While VIVIsect VI blared loudly in their ears. After Bill Leeb with his mic, Jeremy Inkel and his rig, Had just settled down after a long string of gigs, When on the Internet, there arose such a clatter, I sprang on to Facebook to see what was the matter. Away to the windows I flew like a flash, Typed in my password and fired up the hash. The Group spoke of a band bailing from our new-fallen shows, Gave a lackluster reaction in the comments below, When what to my wondering eyes did display, But a miniature jpeg with the letters F, L and A With a little c, preceding the capital E, I knew in a moment it was from cEvin Key. More rapid than eagles the comments they came, And they whistled, and shouted, and called them by name: Now, Ogre! now, cEvin! now Justin Bennett! On, Bill Leeb! on, Inkel! on, Fulber and Bazinet! To the tips of the east! To the top of the west! Now tour away, play away, and show us your best! As blogs about the scary snowstorms fly, They meet with an obstacle, and they conquer it high; So from venue to venue, the rockers they flew With the bus full of gear, and Skinny Puppy too— And then, in a twinkling, I heard on the stage The prancing and pawing of Ogre in a cage. As I drew in my head, and was turning around, In came cEvin with a thunderous sound. With Ogre dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot, And his clothes were all tarnished with blood and soot; A bundle of props he had flung on his back, And he looked like a killer just opening his pack. His eyes—where were they??!! He looked like a freak! His head like a cone, his nose like a beak! My droll little mouth was drawn up with glee, As the venue filled with the scent of weed; With the stump of a pipe held tight in my teeth, And the smoke, it encircled my head like a wreath; I saw a stern face behind a bunch of gear, That shook when he played, and fizzed up my beer. He was tall and ominous, like a Golem at the gates, And I gasped when I saw him up there on stage A flick of his wrist and a twist of his head Soon led me to know this guy had dreads; He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work, And filled the house with noise; then turned with a jerk, And laying his finger upon a fader, And giving a nod, the volume rose greater; Ogre sprang to his feet, the crowd gave out whistles, And away they all flew like the down of a thistle. But I heard them all exclaim, as they drove out of sight— “Happy Christmas to all, and to all a good night!”
Posted on: Fri, 21 Nov 2014 04:11:11 +0000
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