Nhoj Morley


Chapter 8: Soupline to Paradise

Lyrics by Frank Trust


Now on the road again, the lads make their way to Terra Haute, Indiana, where Ahklem has established a network of revolutionaries from this mass-mailing Mecca. While Strumbozo was stuck watching TV, Ahklem explains that he was traveling around and fomenting everyone and everything. Strumbozo was puzzled. "Which side have you been fomenting?"
"I've been fomenting all sides. I thought they all had some good points. Besides, that is how we were taught that your stupid infidel democracy works. I looked for this democracy we were warned about and couldn't find it anywhere. You are all afraid of seeing it fail. So you just believe in it without using it. That makes this place just as at war as anyplace else. It is a nice polite war over congressional seats and oblong offices. You are governed by your elections!"
"Shhh! You'll wake people up!" Strumbozo whispered. "That was ironic. We don't know how many of these old boxes have happy campers in them. We best get past the road blocks before sunup."
Ahklem continued in low growl. "I will destroy democracy once and for all by making it work. All it takes is a lot of encouragement, cajoling, humiliation, inspiration or logical argument to get folks moving."
"What do mean by moving?"
"I mean their legs. In a representative democracy, representatives are sent to Washington to discuss, debate, compromise and empathize in the open in order to collaborate on the road ahead. In my fomenting campaign, I have convinced every cause, group, opinion and movement to separately and secretly organize a March on Washington. By morning, the whole country will be mobilized and on their way. When they converge on your Capitol, they will have their chance to discuss, debate, compromise and empathize their way to collaborating on a course to move along together. Or, they can shoot it out like the rest of us. That will turn your High Horse into just another stubborn ass."
Strumbozo stops and turns to Ahklem. "You dummy! You've sent those people to their doom. We're going the wrong way. We have to get there first. Maybe we can find a way to stop it. When all those doubters come together, they will form one vast war zone that the President could take out in a single blast!"
Ahklem laughed. "Nonsense! They would annihilate themselves, too. We will hold siege and starve them out. Democracy will burn them and then fizzle out forever."
Strumbozo started to run. "Don't you get it? They won't be there. They plan to Rapture themselves into orbit and rule us from space! If we can jump onto this passing freight train, we might get there in time! Come on! I think we'll pass as hobos… "  
Morning came and the country began to shake from footfalls.

Music Info

FUN with the vocalizer.

Back in the early '80's, my pal Frank (alias Sir Bubbles Varoom) had a fascination with abandon car plants in Detroit and books and stories about the Depression. He took polaroid photos of rusty buildings around Zug Island and then headed to the local bar to get more smashed. All that stopped when he fell through a rotted floor and filled his legs with pins and pain. Except for the getting smashed part. He favored little red brick bars near the Rouge River plants around shift change time. He liked to watch the workers. He learned to emulate their walk and dressed like them. It was one phase of a serious long-term Hemmingway-complex.

Along the way, he wrote song lyrics. They were mostly bits and pieces on cocktail napkins or little promotional flyers from a bank lobby. I would collect them when possible from the floor of his car. That way I could do what he never did… finish something. I stitched something together that finally met with his approval. He insisted it be clumsy and ungrammatical because that is how they talk down at the little red brick bar. I can tidy it up now because he can't stop me.

He also had a fascination with those two tiny ladies that lived in a box in the old monster movies.

Narration by Fiz Weld





How can we be so cruel?

How can we be so kind?

Why can't we do what we're told?

why is our share served out in the cold?


In this land so pressurized

by tickling fingers on invisible hands

The New Deals of the demigods

always keep the soupline manned

We are handed out a dole

in a state-issued bowl

Get in line and pay the toll

to receive your own soul

The lesson that we preach

is life is not a peach


How can we be so cruel?

How can we be so kind?

Who bakes this corporate pie?


I never bargained for you

You never bargained for me

Let's write it off as manifest destiny


Work the line! Stamp it! Shape it!

Cold polled steel! For product and progress!

Mother's breast-assembly line-animal machine

Now don't confuse it!

Tow the line read the sign

This is fine the fault's not mine


Mechno-facture each artifact as a prayer

and a hymn to steel sky


Ambition is a sinful lust

stay in line in God we trust

Here's a slice of moldy bread

stay in line better time's ahead

If life is not a peach

if the pie is out of reach

if a lie is what we preach

with excuses that we teach

For that we live and breathe

For that we must concede

Our surrender leads to victory

on the soupline to paradise