[Intro - A low, pulsing acoustic drone, joined by a repetitive, hypnotic fiddle riff that builds in speed] [Verse 1] The eclipse was coming, the sun was a sliver, The King was sitting on his throne with a bit of a shiver. Kev had marked the flagstones with a piece of holy chalk, "Right, nobody move," he said, "And nobody bloody talk!" He’s tuned the engine to a high-pitched, screaming C, Connected to a ley-line and a bit of history. He kicked it into gear and he started the lap, Wearing a velvet cape and his council-issue cap! [beat drop - a heavy, driving "thud-thud-thud" rhythm begins] [Chorus - Chanting, hypnotic, and high-energy] Spinning in the nave, around the Royal Seat, Generating friction with the rubber and the heat! (Spinning round!) He’s a blur of neon yellow in a house of stone and prayer, Smelling like a bonfire in the heavy, incense air! From the thirteenth century to the modern day, Kev is mowing circles just to find a bloody way! [Verse 2 - Dense, rhythmic delivery, increasing in tempo] One lap, two laps, the candles start to flicker, The alchemist is chanting and the mead is getting thicker. Ten laps, twenty, and the floor begins to hum, Like the vibration of a massive, ancient, copper drum! The King is getting dizzy as the mower passes by, A golden-plated comet underneath a stone-cold sky. Kev’s hitting sixty-forty, then he’s hitting eighty-eight, He’s bypassing the tithes and he’s bypassing the state! He’s a centrifugal savior in a pair of baggy shorts, Navigating gravity and the local royal courts! [Dizzying, swirling fiddle and accordion solo] [Verse 3 - Witty and breathless] "Keep your head down, Charlie!" Kev yelled at the Crown, "I’m about to turn the fabric of the cosmos upside down!" The friction sparks were flying like a welder’s busy shop, And Kev was praying that the engine wouldn't bloody stop. A purple rift was opening right behind the choir, Filled with static electricity and bits of dragon-fire! He saw a vision of a car-park and a neon-lit garage, And a 2026 Bodmin-Town-Council camouflage! [pause] (Hold onto your codpiece, lads! We’re going in!) [pause] [Bridge - Slow, heavy stomping, building to a massive crescendo] The stone began to liquify, the air began to scream, The King was looking like a man inside a fever dream. One final lap, a roar of sound, a flash of blinding white, And Kev vanished from the cathedral in the middle of the night! [Chorus - Final, most intense version] Spinning in the nave, around the Royal Seat, Generating friction with the rubber and the heat! He’s a blur of neon yellow in a house of stone and prayer, Smelling like a bonfire in the heavy, incense air! From the thirteenth century to the modern day, Kev has mowed a circle and he’s found the only way! [Outro - Sudden silence followed by the distant sound of a car alarm] ...Right. Where am I? Is that a Greggs? Oh, thank God. Sharon? Sharon, I’m back! I’ve got a ruby the size of a pigeon’s egg and I’m starving! [Sound of a mower engine dying with a final puff of smoke] [End]
