Nhoj Morley


1st Movement



The Dickville Waltz


The Wankie Work Song


Trouble at the Mill


Bop Bop Shaboom

 The workers stuffed the meeting hall that housed the big table where things were worked out. There were not enough chairs for everyone so they set them all aside and stood in a ring around the table. The Grand Moderator hit the small gong and the room went silent. Silent but for the sound of the Boy-King tapping his fingers slowly on the table top.


"Let's raise our voices one by one

Then we can add up what must be done

A civil tongue will keep thing cool

And we can do without a fool"


All agreed to hear each other out. A bottle was duly spun and civil voices were raised one by one…


"Everyday we share our toils

Everyone should share the spoils

Even-Steven all as one

A consensus says what must be done"


"I work hard and beat the game

I should not be paid the same

I will never share the wealth

It's every lad for himself"


"Break it all and start again

I don't care if it's The End

Eat it all and leave a mess

The future is a source of stress"


"Planning is a task for Fate

A strategy will come too late

Resting by the garden gate

I'm sure that everything will be great"


The Boy-King was still tapping a rhythm on the table and he muttered something barely audible over the discussion.


"What was that?"


Voices stilled and ears leaned toward the Boy-King. He turned his palm flat and began smacking on the table.


"I said… bop bop... sha-boom."


The workers heads tilted in puzzlement.


"What's that? Is it a philosophy?

Or an economic strategy?

A formula that divides the sum?

Some way to know what must be done?"


The Boy-King kept smacking the table and stared out across the room as if staring was an answer. He smacked harder as if it could drown out the confusion that was slowly filling the meeting hall. Some lads began speaking out of turn.


"But what of… "


"I said… bop bop sha-boom!"


"Then how does… "


"Just listen… bop bop sha-boom!"


The talking stopped and ears were turned. Everyone tried to understand what it all meant. The Boy-King closed his fists and began pounding as hard as he could on the table.


"There is no need to understand.

All we need is what's at hand.

A hand that keeps the rhythm going…

a hand that works without any knowing."


A few workers were already tapping along on the big table. One by one, the other workers closed their fists and joined in the rhythm. The hall began to reverberate and the table legs squeaked under the strain.


"Will you step through fire with me?

The fire will show us what must be.

Are we the loudest in the room?

Say it with me… bop bop sha-boom!"


The pounding grew and synchronized until all of Dickville could hear the sound. No one could doubt the way ahead had been found.


"Bop bop sha-boom?"


"Bop bop sha-boom!"