The Dandy Highwayman

Part One

Surrounded by the fumes of white makeup, and strangled by scarves,

When trousers of white holsters and tight red infected his calves,

Had royal nobility, a king of the wild frontier,

Came riding on a black stallion,

A shining stallion,

He wore a feather, with silk or leather footgear.

Anchored down with curly locks and bows of pink, blue and yellow,

His thin ruled eyeliner was an endless ribbon of picot,

The highwayman in a Christian D'or three-pointed hat,

No bullet or knife, just a mirror,

Held in his belt, a mirror,

All too scared to mention his ruffled cravat.

Through forest floors and dusty tracks rode the dandy highwayman,

He peered through a window to see a man on a divan,

Like a wild pirate he unplugged the out of touch jukebox,

White and trembling, sat Stuart Goddard,

Jaw clenched, sat Stuart Goddard,

The highwayman stood before him, a machine of Zerox.

But what lurked in the showers, hiding his bright white socks was Dirk,

But the highwayman had a fetish for wonderful beadwork,

Exquisite embroidery, handsome heels, they were very hot!

But Dirk was the owner of these socks,

Those beautiful, fancy socks,

It's the socks that he wanted and the socks that he got.

"Excuse me sir, but with my x-ray specs I see your gleaming socks,

Stand and deliver! Your socks or your life! I'm in my finest frocks

I'm definitely not a goody goody two shoes"

The highwayman's voice clearly sang,

That's what the highwayman sang,

His cape of crimson black engulfed Dirk and his tattoos.

The dandy highwayman gave a dance before Stuart's handgun,

Of only 4 steps, then jumped to his horse and rode off to London,

"You will next see me when I am Prince Charming, on top of the world"

He chanted as he rode off with socks,

Dirks wonderful white socks,

His enemy stood, as the road ahead uncurled.

Part Two

In the year of 1980, the Ant invasion began,

From the sexy south, to the naughty north, that was the plan,

All around the highwayman saw nothing threating him,

But there were still more foes to defy,

"Destroy," they all sang "defy",

But they ended up black and blue, in champagne they would swim.

With friends of friends and his four men, Marco, Merrick, Terry Lee and Gary Tibbs,

All dressed in cavalier lace and dyed hair, each with scarves of drabs and dribs,

They wanted more then fame, they wanted immortality,

To be kings, princes and bandits,

Wild and wonderful bandits,

Their insect prayers, their Antfarm, their studio, an abbey.

Making history they smashed the window like drums,

Mr. Pressman with his penknife took note of their freedoms,

For it was his windows that the dandy highwayman jumped through,

He climbed upon the nearest star,

His mirror shining like a star,

Distracted by their own vanity, the highwayman bid adieu.

The dandy highwayman returned to a place in the country,

To find Stuart Goddard covered in makeup, tears and acne,

He wasn't so physical, strangled in a small room,

Fallen because of a highwayman,

Dying because of a highwayman,

But it was solved with pills, the function of the bathroom.

"Fa fa fa fa fa 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10 dress it up,

Take them all, fill your mouth, we can use your confusion as makeup"

The dandy highwayman said, he was the lawman,

Stuart took the many pills,

Stuart was killed by the many pills,

He'd been the victim of an awful plan.

The highwayman sat on Stuart Goddard's dead lap,

This puss in boots had been caught in the highwayman's mousetrap,

The plan hadn't failed; it was a fashion to be set,

The highwayman could always be dandy,

Tired of excuses, now dandy,

His slick sideburn turned into a torrent of lunette.

The highwayman smiled, but then hit car trouble,

He was meant to be a family, but this death was bashful,

He realised with pride that it was a dog eat dog world,

Working too hard to achieve his dream,

His "So sick of easy fashion" dream,

In his scarves, in his cape, in his mind he twirled.

Tormented by "The Good, the Bad and the Ugly"

His pale skin gave way to foundation, his cracking beauty,

Only telling tales of cockiness, he forgot all his standards,

Plenty of room in an institution,

Trapped in an institution,

Just anti-depressants then, no more records.

Handing himself into Picasso and the star-studded punks,

They handed him the rope, still following his orders like monks,

Then, the only place that would miss him was the drugstore,

Drummers around him tied the knot,

Military men pulled the knot,

The highwayman wasn't dandy anymore.

And still surrounded by the fumes of white makeup and still strangled by scarves,

With trousers of white holsters and tight red infecting his calves,

Has wild nobility, a king of the wild frontier,

Comes riding on a black stallion,

A shining stallion,

He wears a feather, with silk or leather footgear.

Through forest floors and dusty tracks rides the dandy highwayman,

Peering through a window, but didn't see a man on a divan,

No longer like a wild pirate, fell a teardrop,

There is no Stuart Goddard,

Dead still is Stuart Goddard,

There is no room for the highwayman at the top.