The Fisher King - Momus

Failed endangered heffalump

Galumphing round the old gazump

Between the king my brother’s wreck

And the king my father’s death

Don’t tell him he is the Fisher King

Don’t tell him he is the Fisher King

Since I got wounded in the cock

This our land begins to rot

Instead of fixing your mistakes

I sit fishing by the lake

All the little Parsifals coming to fix me

Burn their beasts and offerings and men in effigy

Something sweet is broken inside of me

Something was the compass that guided me

Some great spear has knackered the groin of me

I can’t feel the dagger of ecstasy

Surely there cannot be something wrong

Surely I am not the Fisher King

Don’t tell him he is the Fisher King

Don’t tell him he is the Fisher King

I lost the magic soup tureen

That resurrects the dead

And so I asked my followers to sever my head

My head kept talking endlessly

Kept everyone amused

All the way to Wimbledon

With modish racist views

All the little Parsifals attempting to cure me

Burn their beasts and offerings and men in effigy

Something sweet is broken inside of me

Something was the compass that guided me

Some great spear has knackered the groin of me

I can’t feel the d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-d-dagger of ecstasy

Something sweet is broken inside of me

Something was the compass that guided me

Some great spear has knackered the groin of me

I can’t feel the dagger of ecstasy

Have I now become the Fisher King?