A Verbal Fig Leaf · Track 19 · middle
Tickle-Gizzard
Tickle-Gizzard (1650s) — Anatomically confident. Reaches the gizzard. Tickles it. 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 press is waiting. [Verse 1] Monsieur set it down in a single stroke A little Parisian verb for the feast But an English folio needs a better joke To properly stuff the shape of the beast I sit with a ream of crown paper Bought for a shilling in '53 Why use a mallet instead of a rapier? Why leave a hollow where a syllable could breathe? [Chorus] We are building a tickle-gizzard A hyphenated plummet in the dark A calculated reach into the blizzard To see if we can hit the lower mark The plain word is a pebble in the shoe Too blunt to do the work we need to do We want a line that travels all the way down And rings the bell at the center of the town. [Verse 2] The setter is tapping his stick on the wood He asks if a short little Saxon will fit I tell him a gentleman does what he should By wrapping a ribbon right over the lip My jaw stalls a second before the exchange Measuring the breath against the depth of the plunge It isn't a retreat, it is widening the range Expanding the capacity of the lung. [Chorus] We are building a tickle-gizzard A hyphenated plummet in the dark A calculated reach into the blizzard To see if we can hit the lower mark The plain word is a pebble in the shoe Too blunt to do the work we need to do We want a line that travels all the way down And rings the bell at the center of the town. [Bridge] Any tavern boy can point at the prize Any common butcher can open up the tin But it takes a scholar to properly devise A feather long enough to reach within To slip past the collar and navigate the throat And leave the kitchen breathless at the boast. [Outro] So set the type, my friend, and lock the tray We have forty more to fabricate today A deeper plunge. A longer thread. Leaving the ordinary thing Unsaid.