Fairytale of Maesycrugiau

It was Friday evening
In Maesycrugiau
When Nelmes he said to me
“Pack up, it’s time to go.”
Then he sang Redemption Song
One final screech right through;
I turned my face away
And burned a book or two.

But what a week to see!
From sixteen down to three:
The house was reeling
From wine, guitar and flute.
It’s nearly Christmas
But no festivity
Gives half as good a time
As the Humphrey Institute.


They've got drinks big as sinks
They've got booze in the hall,
They’ve got guests glassy-eyed
As the stag on the wall.
When they first take your hand
Through that manor house door
They promise that soon you’ll be begging for more.

We made noise in no hurry
And covered in slurry;
When the band finished playing
We cried out for more.
The chilli was stinging,
All the drunks they were singing,
We started at lunchtime then drank through the night.

The ghosts in the panelled Jesus room
Were singing through the cold,
And the hurdy-gurdy pined
For Heart of Gold.

How they’d jump up and spank
On an amplified plank,
Sipping port on the sly in resplendent black tie.
Don’t crank up the tension
With stray jazz suspension –
On your feet! Raise a glass! Don’t pretend it's the last...

The ghosts in the panelled Jesus room
Were singing through the cold,
And the hurdy-gurdy pined
For Heart of Gold.



And now they’re gone too soon:
From room to empty room
There drifts a haunting tune,
A chord that can’t sustain.
Our revels disappear,
Melted and dissolute,
But what a founding year
For the Humphrey Institute!

The ghosts in the panelled Jesus room
Were singing through the cold,
And the hurdy-gurdy pined
For Heart of Gold.

© Gareth Prior 2007