A Verbal Fig Leaf · Track 14 · middle
Put the Devil into Hell
Put the Devil into Hell (1610s) — Boccaccio's, and blasphemy as foreplay. The dodge is now showing off. VOLUME: II. THE COINERS, 1600–1699. THE DODGE THIS ERA: The dodge became SPORT. Urquhart translating Rabelais invented dozens in an afternoon; nobody was hiding anything, they were competing. The richest century on the list, and the most useless for actually concealing meaning. Sing the AVOIDANCE, never the anatomy.
No audio yet — generation pending.
Lyrics
[Intro] The binding cost me four crowns at St. Paul's. Heavy paper. Venetian ink. [Verse 1] I could give you the Saxon. It is one dull sound, Dropped like a stone in the mud of the yard. But where is the glory in speaking so small? The mind skips the gutter and draws a wild card. My tongue stalls on the tavern grunt, Scanning the ceiling for something profound. Why walk through the door when you can storm the front? We need a theology, built for the ground. [Chorus] We are going to put the devil into hell. Cast the proud rebel down in the deep. It takes a great sinner to do the Lord's work, And a terrible fire to put him to sleep. I could say it quite plainly, but plain is a bore. I would rather be damned making art of the chore. [Verse 2] See how he rises, all arrogance now. He refuses to bow, he is rigid with spite. There is only one cavern to swallow him whole, Where the brimstone is soft and there isn't much light. I am spinning this out like a man on a stage, While you sit on the cushions and follow the text. You know exactly what lives on the page, And we both know exactly what happens here next. [Chorus] When we finally put the devil into hell. Cast the proud rebel down in the deep. It takes a great sinner to do the Lord's work, And a terrible fire to put him to sleep. I could say it quite plainly, but plain is a bore. I would rather be damned making art of the chore. [Bridge] This is the sport of it. This is the crown. Building a chapel just to tear the thing down. A fifty-word canopy over a bed, When we both know the simple, short English instead. But you smile at the sermon, And make the text certain. [Outro] Down goes the demon. Down to the dark. We are saving our souls with a brilliant spark. It is much better spoken... When the translation is broken. And the pit simply closes around.