President of Guyana Dr Mohammed Irfaan Ali served up an unpresidented Presidential fare of curry, jerk and wine at the culminating moments of the Cricket Carnival Concert in Guyana. Who would believe that his wine served with curry would fan fermenting feud over the failed Federation leading to the Global Curry War that signaled the end of, not just the Commonwealth, but also the Anthropocene in this MultiMedia MicroEpic by Dr Kris Rampersad. Read on…
Amazon Warriors Made Minced Meat
The home team, the Amazon Warriors was minced and quickly dished up by Caribbean compatriots. Although they did not win the match, to at least win the fete, with some unPresidented moves, the President of Guyana Dr Irfaan Ali began to wine and wuk up he waist.
In this act, he unsuspectingly fuelled the war between the tribes of Curry Cricket and Cricket Curry that catapulted the Global Curry Wars, provoked from memories of the failed West Indian Federation, in a boil down to end not just the Commonwealth, but the Anthropocene itself. It earned him and the Guyana Cricket Carnival a place in the new age Epic, the Multimedia Micro Epic of the Anthropocene – the newest creative genre that captures the confluence of creative energies of the current epoch. Read some excerpts from the developing Global Curry Wars, from the MultiMedia MicroEpic of the Anthropocene below with some nice music along the way too!
Author taking front before the front get here – A disclaimer
Dear Reader and other lurkers of the United Nations of Commonwealth et al
The author claims at the onset no relation to any of the tribes, or diatribes that follow.
Getting back to basics, (song in link, lyrics below) she is perched on in an island in the sky, having pitched a traditional tipi tent on the cloud-shrouded Tepuis far from the anticipated influx of refugees and those exiled in thought and in a thoughtless State of Statelessness, fleeing budget blues, property, fuel, transport and other tithes, taxes and tariffs from the neighbouring lands where capitalism gone mad (song in link, lyrics below).
From this vantage she chronicles the events that follow between bouts of emitting the monosyllabic mantra that became the anthem of the Expert Panel of non-Profiting and non-Profiteering from Planetary Predicaments (5Ps, for short)… La la lay la la lay la lay lay la lay lay.
Survivor of an endangered sonorous species
Unscarred, unscathed and unperturbed by eons of censure and censorship, survivor of an endangered sonorous species, she only just bid farewell to the last warrior woman of her tribe -a recount of those epic battles also contained in these engendered epics – worthy philanthropists and patrons of Investopedia may wish to note, with notes in hand.
She leaves the reader to ascertain the objectivity, veracity and purity of the account, a lily in a murky pond of fakedom in what follows.
But, pray, dear readers, if I may interject on her behalf, let any such judgements be pronounced only after readers delve into the full, unabridged, untainted unedited edition that unfolds in colourful folk tones through a maze of manoeuvers into the mindquests of the MultiMedia MicroEpic of the Anthropocene.
For the benefit of the Cerberus concierges of Investopedia that now replace Dear Lizzie’s Britannica, this micro-encyclopedic account is but a brief overview in executive summary. Read on
Territorial dispute over curry rights
As the story goes, tribes of the Continental Mainland and the tribes of the Small Islands, under the cloud of climate change and global warming, were in a territorial dispute over the national dish. Is not unlike the Lilliputian War of big endians and little endians in the ole colonial squabble over which end of boiled eggs must be broken first, eh.
‘Chicken Curry-Curry Chicken,’ the tug of war went on and on, and on and on – if you get my drift…. All the intricate details of that and the machinations of the War itself is in the full, unabridged, untainted unedited edition, of course, though one may prevail on the tale teller to truncate and tweet a bit here and there.
Contentious Chunkaying & Chumkaying over Curry
’Til then, the Amazon and other Warriors, set to guard the post-colonial, neo-Commonwealth statedoms, existed in border-friendly enmity over the disputed territories. Each allowed the other his own tastes in chunkaying. In name though not in method, it became Chicken Curry to those in the Continental side of the tabletop Tepuis, and Curry Chicken to the small islanders on the other side. (Graphically detailed in the digital artistry and mappings in the MultiMedia MicroEpic, Dear readers from museums, galleries and Investopedia if you want some novel digital artistry as installations to correct history’s grouses).
When CariCargo became CariCarGone
One day, the Chief Chef of the Large, Rich and Bewtiful Empyre swam across the coast of the Continental mainland intent on bridging the growing Gulf with the Small Islanders. Numerous others had attempted such a swim, even an ill-fated, Duke who was soon drowned in the machinations of those who carry such titles, depriving the waiting sharks in the water of an undelectable morsel.
Others too would make such an attempt all because they had burnt all the canoes that would have allowed the indigeneous peoples a livelihood. In dem days, they had no sailboats nor starships. Transport routes were much more convoluted and meandering – you had to go North, to go South, or West to go East, yuh understand, because the Global South was still an Illdiscovered Continent! Attempts at developing a cargo fleet drowned too, like the Duke, even before setting sail. From holes in captain’s decks, the much anticipated CariCargo in a jiffy became CariCarGone.
But you know what they say about fish rotting by the head. It have plenty in that Sea!
The Chief Chef’s Sizzling Adventures
Through much sizzling adventures, battling the many monsters of the sea – the ghosts and bones of many a murderer and marauder a-sunken there – and some unexpected leviathans from the skies and mammoth monsters from the nether regions too – the Chief Chef finally arrived, completing the six strokes it required to get beyond the boundary ‘cross the miniscule, though treacherous, Gulf. All these mind boggling meanderings are meticulously minuted in graphic visualisations and descriptions in the full, unabridged, untainted unedited compendium of MultiMedia MicroEpics created in digital and the many antiquated and obsolete forms of chronicling – like books, films, vignettes, posters, reports, graphics, maps and charts for the benefit of those who may wish to refresh their obsolete, distorted interpretations and displays in global museums and art galleries and the like….
A truce-treaty of – not tortillas – but roti with curry
To cut such delightfully long and long-winded EPIC tale into a MultiMedia MicroEpic, as clickbait in the ocean of Investopedia, the Chief declared a truce treaty of not tortillas, but roti with curry. Yes, yes, I know that doesn’t do justice to all the valiant vanquisher encountered and conquered but again, as this is the executive summary, I desist from pouring out all the pleasurable potions and pepper pots of picong for which you would have to consult the full and unabridged editions which includes the many truces and treaties of the Global Curry Wars.
Clash of Cavaliers of Cricket and Courtiers of Carnival
To give effect to his truce, the Chief Chef coaxed the contending cavaliers of Cricket and the cavorting courtiers of Carnival to a comaraderic Cricket Carnival on his own turf. To set all at ease, he declared null and void the edict of Chup that admonished all curry mouths to remain shut/Chup. Instead, he encouraged the civil society of the Commonwealth to Bring The Noise and as much as possible so the tribes may trash out their differences, whether on Cricket field or Carnival parade and soca stage, as their diverse and multifarious talents allowed. That is just a tiny taste of the morsel. Owing to censure and censorship, the Decree of Chup, and other contentious colonial and neo colonial declarations of criminal and seditious conduct with their explanatory notes are only available through special access code embedded in the Epic accounts. Good luck in breaking them!)
Dem rude boy Tallawahs
To cut the long-winded classical epic into a breathtaking short-form MultiMedia MicroEpic (wink wink), the truce didn’t mean squat, talk cheap, things break up and battle bruck out. Fingers point to the bad behave rude boy Tallawahs, already well-known for disrupting any and every attempt at unification of the islands and the continent. Case cited is when they prematurely pullout of the already doomed Federation (song in link, lyrics below) that put in motion the cataclysmic fracturing of the small islands. From that evolved the new formula of disunity devised by the disingenuous Oxford Don. He planasse Keynesian and all other prior theorists of capitalism, imposing his own. One from ten leaves nought, he had scribbled. It was interpreted mathematically as 1-10=0. Interpreted musically, in an uptempo calypso beat, it resonated more ominously, as Ten to One is Murder! (song in link, lyrics below) That’s but a few of the many asides and side stories of this maze of amazing epical tales, in Executive Summary, you see, and now return to my account – for the benefit of the red stripe-suited sires of Investopedia
A Bolting Victory for Jerk at Cricket Carnival
Never one to stay out of any regional contention though renowned for their prowess to Bolt first – they so frontish – the tough and tall-ah-wal-ah-high Tallawahs didnt need to swim or sail. They just sprint and Bolt ’cross the archipelago of small islands to land on the Continental Mainland, with a jerk! Screech! Halt! Stop PRESS! A Magnificent shot!
Meh cyar believe it! Out of nowhere, the irie rude boys leh go jerk and bammy with Goat Curry and Curry Goat to oust both Chicken Curry and Curry Chicken, and needless to say, flying fish too, out of contention and indeed the competition! In odder words, they beat them Bajans bad bad!
Flying Fish flayed in the Fray, one Fryday
They mash up bad bad the Knight Riders, Patriots, Kings Amazon Warriors, in ragamuffin style. They then make direct tackle on the beleaguered once royalings of Little Britain. Every flying fish got a Fryday all over the region as every tourist know, but this one wasn’t meant for the Bad John Bajan Royalings, emerging from their own recent wrestle with the Empire to declare themselves a Flying Fish Republic. And, I might add, as an side, despite the fish’s appeal to the international tribunal on grounds of their instinctive migratory habits across territorial waters. (For the arguments and counter arguments, you would have to turn to the volumes labelled the C Monologues on Contentious Court and Other Contemptuous Cases in the full, unabridged, untainted unedited edition, Dear Reader.)
Mama Mia in the Mix
Mama Mia! Who could argue with the formidable matriarch of that tribe, eh, who nearly dead with laughing, cause she know she score ahready. And the Tallawalahs – them been threatening to leave the Empire long time but prefer to keep things irie, cool, no problem! Who laugh last, eh, and who vex lorse! That’s what I say! ‘ Cause that was long-prophesied by the sagely Black Jacobin of colonial cricket. Heself see long reaches beyond the boundary of the territory wallahs, but in the epic flaws as those which sunk CariCargo – damn dotishness – so too were his books penned in Minty Allies and philosophies on property, privilege and poverty and the like!
What do they know of cricket, who only cricket know eh!
A new culinary recipe
Undaunted by the wallop given to his Warriors, the Chief Chef of the Large, Rich and Bewtiful Empyre on the Continental mainland, changed his recipe quick quick for another attempt at amity and unity. In an astonishing endorsement of global citizenship, he jus so jus so recolour the red in he jersey and flag for the green yellow and black of the invasive Tallawah species.
Unfazed, fueled with confidence from winning the culinary contest of making curry, he tuned in to the stage where the Monk-like Mr Fete, was holding counsel with the dueling tribes on mixed musical survival techniques – a lil bit a chutney, reggae, soul, zouk and the like.
When you mix wine and curry…
Papayo! In an unprecedented unPresidental move, the Chief Chef of the Large, Rich and Bewtiful Empyre, declaring he is the original Guyana Baboo, grab the Monk’s wine chalice and proceeded to put dong a hot wuk up wine on the continent to the astonishment of the gathering of unCommonwealth of United Nations.
Now everybody far and wide, no matter what colour economy they from, across the Common or unCommon wealth of United Nations know, wine and curry doh mix!
Is then the jhanjat start! (The Chief Curry Chef Anatomy of the Wine -To be Continued next epic installment.)
Snipets from the long Global Curry Wars
(In Executive Summary), In truth the fete now start and the jam cyar done. It triggered a war that would come to be known as the Global Curry War that stretch through 18 decades, culminating the end of the Anthropocene.
Lyrics to the songs in this below while we prepare the full multimedia visual components. Make contact to find out how you can get involved as sponsor, partner, collaborate. There’s something for everyone
The Sad Sadhu of the Save Soiled Souls Society
As prophesied by the Sad Sadhu of the Save Soiled Souls Society in the previous janam, the goings on and comings were the subject of the epic tellings and retellings spread and embellished by the trolls, tweeters and tictockers, facebookers and snapchatters, bloggers and vbloggers, memes and mimic men, and captured in momentary memory flashes in the MultiMedia Micro Epic of the Anthropocene, through digital artistry and many other novel forms of expression.
Peppered with presidential picong, itself unprecedented in anything yet attempted in prose, verse, folk songs, lyrical poetry, memes, graphic visualisation, mapping, carthography or pictographs, pictograms, or petroglyphs, it unfolds as the newest creative genre the MultiMedia MicroEpic of the Anthropocene).
Other Chapters
The unPrecedented unPresidential Wine
The Invisible Warrior Women of Amazonia
The Island in the Sky
The Macocious Listeners – the ole lady oilbird’s tale
The Massacre of the Moons
The West Monster and the Jagabat
And Many more. See About MultiMedia MicroEpic Below and song lyrics
Sneak Peak at MultiMedia MicroEpic Film and Digital Artistry with excerpts from the Global Curry Wars, Mother Continent, Ode to the Anthropocene and One Night To Bloom here
About Dr Kris Rampersad
Dr Kris Rampersad is an award winning journalist, innovator, educator, international sustainable development consultant with a PhD in Literatures in English, a UNESCO-trained heritage educator/facilitator, National Geographic certified educator, global Woman Tech Makers’ Ambassador and Worldpulse and Google Digital Ambassador. Read more here.
To support, sponsor, collaborate or find out more about this or creating and developing your own legacy initiative make contact through social media or here.
About the MultiMedia Micro Epic
New Creative Genre
This new MultiMedia Micro Epic as a genre adapts the classical epic long-form for short form new multimedia to deepen presentation of information for museums, art galleries, , educators and others interested in deeper explorations with limited time. It blends and condenses the styles, tools and techniques of the traditional classical epic with conventional (radio, television, print); traditional (cultural-stage/performance) and new multimedia tools. It therefore integrates a range of learning and communications styles, tools and techniques that include verbal and visual, oral and aural styles, languages and representations as text, image, motion and sound along with a host of literary devices and creative elements.
Multiple Communication & Education Modes
This new MultiMedia Micro Epic provides layered communication modes from classical to contemporary through audio-visual, motion and textual elements with classical epic and multimedia styles, tools and techniques. It also blends academia, journalism and pop culture, arts and science, fiction and non fiction, oral, aural and literary conventions and formal and non formal modes of expositions.
As a genre, the MultiMedia Micro Epic also expands and encompasses a range of other traditional genres of non-fiction as biography, documentary, journalese, with science/fiction, fantasy, lyrical prose poetry, song and drama through contemporary music video/visualisations, memes along with documentary and other evidence- based forms of expositions.
It is based on real events of the heroine’s quest for where knowledge lives – even if we all cease to be. The new multi media micro epic is framed by music and song. These represent an amalgam of musical styles from the confluence of diasporas of the Caribbean including Asia Pacific, Africa, Europe and the Americas.
Classical Epic Meets 21st Century Multimedia
Media and Literary Consultant Educator Strategist and Author, Dr Kris Rampersad host news conference with Nobel Laureate Derek Walcott (right) and Theatre Manager Actor Albert Laveau at Trinidad Theatre Workshop
The new MultiMedia Micro Epic maintains the core internal & external elements of the traditional epic inclusive of Muse, heroism, lyricism, an epic quest, journey, perilous ‘adventures that traverse universal, earthly & underworldly spheres. It engenders the traditional epic with a heroine. It blends fact, fiction, fantasy with journalism, memes, blogging, folk song & music for an interactive immersive experience.
Thematically, it treats with many of the socio-cultural & political dilemmas of the Anthropocene: environment & heritage degradation & conservation, health, pollution, consumerism & consumption, gender inequalities, women’s & girls’ education, violence, extremism, global travel, migration, settlement, adaptation, post colonialism, governance, censorship marginalization, alienation, the North-South divide & other development deficits, gaps, opportunities & potentials.
It opens up academia & any user of new media to a new world of creativity utilising & valuing a range of traditional & technological knowledge sources.
Range of Exposition Forms
As a condensed epic form, the MultiMedia Micro Epic provides snippets that function doubly as ‘research’. It authenticates traditional folk and new technological knowledge, intuition, oral visual and aural tangible and intangible knowledge sources and holds up documentary sources as art, songs, newspaper articles, blogs, conference presentations, powerpoints, memes, music nature sounds and other unacknowledged forms of communications, inviting viewers to expand their curiosity to explore and discover more.
Hence, the viewer is immersed in the experience of exploring, in the quest for knowledge by the heroine. The quick snaps and fast pace also invite the viewer to pause, take note and think, as another form of accessing knowledge. It so promotes appreciation and respect for all types of knowledge to negate notions of superior and inferior knowledge that plagues modern systems.
Fast Paced into infinite time
Its treatment of time in condensed form is in may ways symbolic of our fast-paced age is symbolic of creation time and processes and promises replication and expansion of the multimedia micro epic genre into infinite micro-forms, and modes and medium of expressions through lyrical prose, poetry, fiction, non fiction, documentary and other forms of new media expositions.
Its universal scope draws from quick snap insights from the creator’s wide travel experience, photographs, articles, journalism, research & global engagements.
Read more about the MultiMedia MicroEpic & mDNA MotherContinent and the new creative genre here
Some lyrics to accompany your reading above
Back to Basics by Trinidad Rio
I went to Public Utilities and tell them,
“Disconnect them facilities ’cause me ent want them.”
I try to contact the Ombudsman but never in office
I going to file me an injunction on the Public Service
‘Cause every time a heavy rain fall, by me doh have no current at all
They spoil meh TV, they spoil meh fridge, they nearly kill me with low voltage
Now, before they make me a lunatic
I going back to basic
I going and get a flambeau and lamp with wick.
I going back to basic
I call my fans and I call my friends to let them know
That if they have a message to send, tell Tempo
And if they come home and they ent see me, tell meh neighbour
Or get a pen and a writing pad and write a letter
‘Cause TSTT does make me weep, gone are the days when ole talk was cheap
I make a phone call to Talparo and I get a phone bill to Mexico
Oh meh lord, before they kill me and kill me quick
I going back to basic
A piece ah maling and two KLIM pan wouldn’t do the trick.
I going back to basic
I went and buy me a motor car for my own comfort
Because I can’t take no more torture waiting on transport
But all them potholes and all them bump, meh car ent able
Until they invent a car to jump, well I go travel
I beg the Lord to please put a hand, touch the heart of the spare parts man
I used to have a raise in the bank, now every cent gone in my gas tank
Now, I prefer roll a roller with piece ah stick
I going back to basic
Or buy a three-speed bike going jic-jic-jic.
I going back to basic
Now the only competent source that really working
Is when you can’t pay your bills on time, they come cutting
Incompetence and disregard ent no humour
‘Cause the situation is sad for the poor consumer
The word WASA does give me gripe, I ask for water, them give me pipe
I can’t even get meh clothes to wash, my toilet full and can’t even flush
Now they make me condemn meh toilet bowl
I going back to basic
And now I digging a latrine hole.
I going back to basic
Yesterday, I went to the store to buy a cooler
Then get my Indian partner next door to make a chulha
I buy a donkey cart from Ramdeen to make a stagecoach
Then put some Severin in meh latrine to kill the cockroach
I buy a posey made in Hong Kong, the only silver posey in town
Well, if you see the latrine I build, girl, is the cleanest one on the hill
All down inside the hole and around the walls, I always Flitting… You know why?
To make sure cockroach ent bite my— !!!!!!.
Long time, me, Gypsy and Cro Cro, back in the earlies
We used to go down town after show, pick up the ladies
Window shop, take them along, buy them a roti
Then find the cheapest hotel in town and make a pacoti
But time changes and so do we, so put that down in kaiso history
‘Cause if you should do the same today, is like a game of Russian Roulette
So now, before one of them get me sick
I going back to basic
I prefer sit down in a corner and –
I going back to basic
The Mighty Sparrow
You got to be a millionaire
Or some kind of petit-bourgeoisie
Any time you living here
In this country
You got to be in skullduggery
Making your money illicitly
To live like somebody
In this country
It’s outrageous and insane
Them crazy prices in Port of Spain
And like the merchants going out dey brain
And the working man, like he only toiling in vain
Where you ever hear, a television for seven thousand
Quarter million for lil piece of land
A pair of sneakers, two hundred dollars
Eighty, ninety thousand for motor cars
At last here in Trinidad
We see capitalism gone mad
It’s sad and getting more bad
Because, doudou, capitalism gone mad!
To provide for your family
Today on your present salary
Is an impossibility
In this country
So many bills to pay
There is no conceivable way
To save for a rainy day
In this country
Avariciousness to be precise
Is why every damn thing so overpriced
Big business making everybody feel
Government give them an open license to steal
Would you believe me, one nylon panty is nineteen ninety
Twenty dollars for some baby milk
The cheapest jersey cost over sixty
Two hundred and change a yard for silk
It hard here in Trinidad
Lord have mercy, capitalism gone mad
It’s sad, things getting more bad
Oh Lord, capitalism gone mad!
To buy a pack of cigarette
Does leave you with a hole in your wallet
And money is so hard to get
In this country
Necessity or luxuries
It doesn’t matter what the item is
They charging anything they please
In this country
Primary school books prices lewd
Is highway robbery, the price of food
All hopes and dreams elude the poor man
But politicians still expect good work attitude
Just imagine this, the cheapest coffin over three thousand
Not even dying today easy
Thousands of dollars for the undertakers
So you could get a spot in the cemetery
It hard here in Trinidad
Oh lord, capitalism gone mad
The gladness that once we had
Is gone because capitalism gone mad!
You got to have heavy contact
Know how to move up in society
To make any kind of impact
In this country
You got to know how to gyp the field
How to scheme and swindle properly
Perfect the art of wheel and deal
In this country
I say, survival in this land
Isn’t easy for no man
With unemployment and high inflation
Some of we go dead before the end of this recession
Wey de hell is dis, a Mango Julie costing three fifty
Forty dollars for one watermelon
Half your salary for fish, meat, and poultry
Time you buy greens all your money done
It hard here in Trinidad
Lord, have mercy, capitalism gone mad
It sad and getting more hard
Put a hand, lord, capitalism gone mad!
The Mighty Sparrow
People want to know why Jamaica run
From the Federation
Well they want to know why Jamaica run away
From the Federation
Jamaica have a right to speak she mind and
That is my opinion
And if you believe in democracy
You’ll agree with me
But if they know they didn’t want federation
And they know they don’t want to unite as one
Independence was at the door
Why didn’t they speak before
This is no time to say you ain’t federating no more!
When they didn’t get the capital site
That nearly cause big fight
When Sir Grandley Adams took up his post
That even made things worse
They bawling, “We ain’t want no Bajan premier
Trinidad can’t be capital for here!”
So the grumbling went on and on
To a big referendum
But if they know they didn’t want federation
And they know they don’t want to unite as one and only one
I say to tell the Doctor you’re not in favor
Don’t behave like a blasted traitor
How the devil you mean you ain’t federating no more!
Sorry but no Federation again
I think it’s a big shame
After so much efforts and energy
Put by everybody
Right now it’s only a memory
We failed miserably
Some may say we shouldn’t have parted
But it’s Jamaica who started
If they know they didn’t want federation
And they know they don’t want to unite as one
Just tell the Doctor you’re not in favor
Don’t behave like a blasted traitor
This is no time to say you ain’t federating no more!
Federation boil down to simply this:
It’s dog eat dog and survival of the fittest
Everybody fighting for independence
Singularly Trinidad for instance
We going get it too so don’t bother
But I find we should all be together
Not separated as we are
Because of Jamaica
If they know they didn’t want federation
And they know they don’t want to unite as one
Tell the Doctor!
Tell the Doctor you’re not in favor
Don’t behave like a blasted traitor
How the devil you mean you ain’t federating no more!
Ten To one Is Murder
Slinger Francisco, The Mighty Sparrow
Well, dey playing bad
dey have me feeling sad
Well, dey playing beast
Why dey run for police
Ten criminals attack me outside ah Miramar
Ten to one is murder!
About ten in the night on the fifth of October
Ten to one is murder!
Way down Henry Street, by HGM Walker
Ten to one is murder!
Well, the leader of the gang was hot like a pepper
Ten to one is murder!
And every man in the gang had a white-handle razor
Ten to one is murder!
They say ah push the girl from Grenada
Ten to one is murder!
Well, ah back back until ah nearly fall in the gutter
Ten to one is murder!
Just imagine my position, not a police in the area!
Ten to one is murder!
Well, ah start to sweat
Man, ah soaking wet
Mama, so much threat
That’s a night ah cyar forget
Ten ah them against me with fifty spectator
Ten to one is murder!
And the way dey coming up like dey want to devour
Ten to one is murder!
But in the heat of the excitement, is then ah remember
Ten to one is murder!
In meh next pants pocket, ah forget me wager
Ten to one is murder!
Ah don’t know what to do, but ah just can’t surrender
Ten to one is murder!
So dey go cut me down as small as Pretender
Ten to one is murder!
Can you imagine all the planning to dig out meh liver
Ten to one is murder!
But as the crowd start to gather, ah started to shiver
Ten to one is murder!
In the still of the night
I was really in a fright
Me alone against ten
Ten vicious men
I remember I had a chicken at Miramar
Ten to one is murder!
Well, ah said to meself, “that was meh last supper!”
Ten to one is murder!
But ah get away; and ah run, till ah reach Johnson corner
Ten to one is murder!
They take off in meh skin with big stick an’ boulder
Ten to one is murder!
The fella in front was a very good pelter
Ten to one is murder!
Bottle and stone falling but no place to shelter
Ten to one is murder!
Ah hear “potow, pow!”, and the crowd start to scatter
Ten to one is murder!