[Intro: Ethereal Folk Harmonies & Complex Acoustic Guitar Fingerpicking] (Ahhh, the village green) (Ahhh, where the grass is pristine) [Beat Drop: Heavy 130 BPM UKG Sub Bass & Syncopated Hi-Hats] [Spoken Word: Dry, Sarcastic Tone] "Right, deep breaths Mr. Higgins. Just explain to me the physics of it one more time." [Verse One: Ultra-Skippy 2-Step Rap Flow] It’s a quaint little parish where the vicar plays tennis But the local casualty ward is dealing with a menace It ain't a viral fever or a sudden bout of scurvy It’s the sheer amount of residents who end up topsy-turvy "I was vacuuming the living room right in my birthday suit, When I tripped upon the rug and dropped an ornamental boot." Yes, a million-to-one shot, defied the laws of physics Now he's sitting in the clinic with the sceptics and the cynics We got farmers, we got bakers, we got members of the choir All discovering the floorboards are remarkably untoward When you’re walking from the shower to the middle of the hallway And you magically absorb a frozen marrow in the doorway! [Chorus: Maximalist Indie Folk-Pop with Driving Garage Beat] Oh, the village of the damned, where the residents are slipping! (Gravity is unforgiving!) Where the sheer amount of accidents is genuinely gripping! (What on earth were you retrieving?) From a flashlight to a hairbrush to a plastic spaceman toy It’s a geographical anomaly destroying man and boy Yes, they tripped and then they fell, it’s a story told so well In the waiting room of purgatory, just outside of hell! [Verse Two: Virtuoso Triplet Rap Cadence over Plucky Mandolin] Listen closely to the rhythm as the ambulance is reversing To the clinic where the sister is continually nursing A demographic suffering from gravitational anomalies Resulting in some highly questionable colonoscopies "I was polishing the banister," the local butcher stated "When I slipped and found my own posterior was penetrated By a can of shaving foam, a courgette, and a coaster." Mate, it's lucky that you didn't fall upon the kitchen toaster! Every weekend it’s an epidemic, absolutely tragic How a television clicker disappears like it was magic And the x-rays are resembling a modern art museum With the objects so obscured the radiologist can't see 'em! [Chorus: Maximalist Indie Folk-Pop with Driving Garage Beat] Oh, the village of the damned, where the residents are slipping! (Gravity is unforgiving!) Where the sheer amount of accidents is genuinely gripping! (What on earth were you retrieving?) From a flashlight to a hairbrush to a plastic spaceman toy It’s a geographical anomaly destroying man and boy Yes, they tripped and then they fell, it’s a story told so well In the waiting room of purgatory, just outside of hell! [Bridge: A Cappella Chap Hop Build Up, Slowly Introducing Glitchy Percussion] "I was hanging up the curtains." (Lies.) "I was rescuing the cat." (Lies.) "I was dusting off the mantlepiece and searching for my hat." (Lies.) "I was naked making a sandwich when I tumbled off the stool, And miraculously landed on a wooden garden tool!" [Beat Drops Back In: Maximum Aggression Sub Bass] [Verse Three: Fast-Paced Intricate Multisyllabic Flow] It’s a structural catastrophe, a crisis of the footing We should bubble-wrap the populace and reinforce the pudding 'Cause the latest lad admitted was the captain of the cricket Who proclaimed he slipped and landed on the middle of a wicket! It’s the sheer articulation of the fictionalization That provides the medical professionals a daily fascination So step carefully, my friend, when you wander through the shire Lest you trip and end up sitting on a rusty curling iron! [Outro: Fading Ethereal Folk Harmonies & Sweeping Strings] (Watch your step) (Mind the gap) (Don't fall on the bric-a-brac) [Spoken Word: Over Fading Acoustic Guitar] "Just... pull your trousers up and wait for the surgeon, please." [End]
