R’Lyehan Pie

To the tune of Don McLean’s ‘American Pie‘

A long long time ago
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance
I could make those shoggoths dance
And maybe they’d be happy for a while
But February made me shiver
With every doom that I deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step

I can’t remember if I cried when I heard about his widowed bride

But something touched me deep inside the day
That Innsmouth died

Buy, buy some R’Lyehan pie

Drove my Plymouth out to Innsmouth but the county was dry

Them Great Old Ones was drinkin’ hemoglobin wine

Singin this’ll be the day that they die

This’ll be the day that they die

Did you write forbidden tomes and do you have time to gnaw the bones

Everybody tells me so

Now do you believe in Zoth-Ommog

Can ghouls really bark just like a dog

And can you teach me how to dance real slow

Well I know that you’ve been callin down

Some lesser ones to paint the town

They ripped out all the trees

And drove us to our knees

I was a lonely teenage ‘prentice mage
With a annotated open page

But I knew that I was out of sage the day
That Innsmouth died

I started chanting
Buy, buy some R’Lyehan pie
Drove my Plymouth out to Innsmouth but the county was dry
Them Great Old Ones was drinkin’ hemoglobin wine

Singin this’ll be the day that they die
This’ll be the day that they die

I met a girl who played the flute
And I asked her for some happy news
She just smiled and turned away
I went down to the sacred store
Where I’d heard the music years before
But the man there said the music wouldn’t play

And in the streets the children screamed

The lovers cried and the poets dreamed
But not a word was spoken
The church bells all were broken

And the three men I admire most

The Marshes, Waite and all the ghosts
They caught the last boat from the coast
The day
That Innsmouth died

I started chanting

Buy, buy some R’Lyehan pie
Drove my Plymouth out to Innsmouth but the county was dry
Them Great Old Ones was drinkin’ hemoglobin wine
Singin this’ll be the day that they die
This’ll be the day that they die

Now for fifty years we’ve been on our own

And moss grows fat on a rolling stone
But that’s not how it used to be
When the pipers played for the king and queen
In coats they borrowed from Dylath-Leen
And a voice that it came from undersea
Oh, and while the king was looking down
The Old Ones stole his thorny crown
The dark mass was adjourned
No one was returned
And while Arkham wrote the book on dark
Innsmouth was no walk in the park
And we sang dirges in the dark
The day
That Innsmouth died

So

Buy, buy some R’Lyehan pie
Drove my Plymouth out to Innsmouth but the county was dry
Them Great Old Ones was drinkin’ hemoglobin wine
Singin this’ll be the day that they die
This’ll be the day that they die

Duane Pesice

Duane lives in the desert southwest with his pets, guitars, and monsters. Periodically he sends them forth.

www.planetmoderan.com