LE FRACAS - SONGS and EXPERIMENTS

[The Broadsheet Boys]

The strange collective known as "The Shattering" produces several songs that are left to circulate in the poorer areas of Port-a-Lucine.

Broken Promises

When you're small they'll say; you gotta seize the day...

That if you're quick, if you're bright, if you do everything right...

The world will be yours! How high you'll soar!

So to work you go; aiming high by starting low.

Twelve hour days, eyes glazed, heart weak. You begin to lose hope in ever claiming what you seek.

Still, they'll smile to your face. They'll say: good citizens know their place.

Keep bleeding for me and someday you'll be free!

Each time, you swallow the line. But it's like swallowing poison; soon enough you gotta choose:

To spit it back up or die slow. I know how I want to go. So when they open their powdered mouths I shout:

I'M DONE ASKING. I'M NOT WAITING ANYMORE. GIVE ME WHAT I'M DUE!

OR.

I.

WILL.

/BREAK./

YOU.

I'm over the lies, I've heard your promises before.

Always you say: "just wait a little more".

Always you say: "there's a new plan to help."

You live like pigs on high and pretend that you care if I die.

Well I know it's not true. Here's all I got to say to you:

I'M DONE ASKING. YOU HAD YOUR CHANCE. I'M TAKING WHAT I'M OWED.

DON'T MAKE ANOTHER SOUND.

OR I'M GONNA BURN YOU TO THE GROUND.

There's no life on a factory floor.

There's no law that'll guard my door.

Your kingdom glitters bright with all that stolen delight.

I wont rob my own, like those thugs that shed our blood, but from you?

I'LL TAKE WHAT I'M DUE.

TIME'S UP.

TOO LATE.

YOU. WILL. BREAK!

The Ballad of Felix Toure

The hour is late. There's blood on the stones. Another poor soul, cornered scared and alone.

The Coats don't patrol here. The night's a grim game. But from the shadows steps a hero; we already know his name.

FELIX TOURE!

With a BANG. BANG. BANG. There's an end to the gang. Our poor soul is free.

Because there's a truth plain to see. If you don't bleed blue, there's nothing the Coats will do.

They'll pay "heroes" and foreigners to kill one or two, but they don't care about you.

And if you step out of line? You're comitting a crime, and the lapdogs will cut short your time.

He knew that pain. The loss and the blood. Neighbors lost to the mud.

So he took arms for a cause. He took on Communal laws. If you prey on the meek, if exploitation is what you seek?

Then he stepped from the night and judged you in the light.

FELIX TOURE!

With a BANG. BANG. BANG. True justice is done. No more should we run!

The frills have their laws. The Church has their doors. To who do we pray when they come to take us away?

SAINT FELIX TOURE!

Patron of a people. The home is his steeple. The State took him away, but in our hearts he shall stay.

His spirit roars with a vengeance when our lives are taken. The frills might forget, but we know the path he set.

So when they come for your own, when they break into your home? There's only one thing to do...

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

Fall in Something Very Like Love

I've got this tune in my head. You all know how it goes.

 The one with deep eyes, brown hair and a lifetime of blows.

We met only briefly, but I can't seem to forget, the way you moved like anyone that crossed you is dead.

You set my heart racing, and when the light falls on you just right...

I know THAT I'VE FALLEN IN SOMETHING VERY LIKE LOVE TONIGHT!

This aint one for the stories. This aint good or proper.

Maybe in time those feelings can bloom. But right now in this room?

I'm holding you tight, because I'M FALLING IN SOMETHING VERY LIKE LOVE TONIGHT!

I'm not proposing. There's time to date, it's true. I want in good time to see more of you.

But to me now? You're a dish, you're a dream!

I WANT TO BREAK A TABLE DOING SOMETHING OBSCENE!

So drink, dance and move with me just right. I'M FALLING IN SOMETHING VERY LIKE LOVE TONIGHT!

I hope we'll get on. I think we'd make a good match! But there's passion and /passion/, and right now I'm unattached.

I'm really quite simple. A beast at my heart. I like to sing, drink, fight, make true art and...

I'D LOVE IF YOU LET ME TEAR YOUR WORLD APART.

So take a leap with me through the pale moonlight.

Wont you fall in something like love with me tonight?

[One Voice]

Well Paid, Well Fed, Submissive

The nobles take care of us,
They tend to our wants and needs;
Or at least that’s what they claim,
With the phrase “Noblesse Oblige”.

The truth is much more ugly:
Most treat us worse than dogs.
All part of the machinery,
We’re ground down, broken cogs.

Well paid, well fed, submissive.
Is this how you describe a citizen?

Say this for the hunger and the beatings:
At least they don’t lie.
How intolerable the hypocrisy
Of the nobles who dare to cry.

More than food, more than money,
We are deprived of agency.
Promoting the odd self-serving wench
Is no true meritocracy.

Well paid, well fed, submissive.
Is this how you describe a human?

Where are the fruits of the Revolution?
Why have I become so bitter?
Why are we ruled by inbred toffs?
Is truly no-one fitter?

The mendacity of our masters
Has finally taught its lesson:
Despite honeyed words and promises,
True power is not given, it is taken.

Well paid, well fed, submissive
No longer.

(Placed IC)

[One Voice]

The Coward’s Labor

The nobles of Dementlieu are haughty
And consider themselves free-thinkers.
They ignore the reality:
Their power becomes blinkers.
If they exclaim, “Not signing your name is cowardice!”
Then just ask them: “Who killed Guy Maurice?”

For the powerless and the voiceless,
Rich only in obsequiences,
Speaking truth to power comes
With swift and damning consequences.
If they challenge, “Masking yourself has no honor!”
Respond: “What was the fate of Jacques Varteur?”

Mistrust their perverted justice,
Disbelieve their free expression.
Blind obedience to tradition
Is our true Constitution.
If they offer, “Please, have your say!”
Don’t end up like Felix Touré.

Trust no-one.
Hide your name.
Change your voice.
Wear a mask.
Don’t be a snitch.
Who’s the real coward, hiding behind their power?

(Placed IC)

[The Broadsheet Boys]

After the latest party one song in particular is circulated by the "Shattering" in the poorer districts of Port-a-Lucine.

Ghosts

There's a ghost at the bar, never says a word, but he's there every time I go.

There's another on the corner, where the gutters overflow, I can't look him in the eye yet but someday I will.

They're under crumbling awnings, they're down crooked streets, they're everywhere in the city that never sleeps.

Where were you when war came again? Where were you when it took family and friends?

Where were you when the storm broke on our town? When the streets ran red, and the sky fell down?

Yeah, they say ghosts they come from business undone.

They're waiting for a righting of wrongs. They're haunting the places they used to know.

I don't know if that's true, but I know that they're there, I know my conscience aint clear.

Where were you when the cables snapped? Where were you when the boiler burst?

Where were you when they came for the young? When childhood was traded for darkness and pain?

I see them still. Ghosts drifting in the rain.

 There's so many places that'll never be the same.

I'm not going to forget. I wont ignore them forever.

I hope some day, that the world will be better.

But for now they're there still, and when it's my time in life's queue...

I wonder if I'll haunt these streets, too.

[One Voice]

(Song lyrics are placed down in several places in the Quartier Public, Marchand, Ouvrier, and the Thieves' Highway.)

Useless Prophylactics

When you’re tumbling with your squeeze,
And don’t know who they’ve seen
When you’re kissing them and loving them,
And getting, well, you know what I mean!

Some swear by sheep intestine tubes
Some on Lamordian contraption
Some use herbal tea, whatever works
To avoid unwanted contagion!

[CHORUS]
Baronesse de Prophylactic!
Baronesse de Prophylactic!
When you’re in need and the blue coats chase
Don’t trust her to keep you safe!

There is a plague amongst the bluebloods
Evil that spreads as it may please
I’ve no fancy doctorate from the university,
So I jus’ call it the Gendarme’s disease

It’s a sickness of the heart
That sucks our blood like a tick
To this illness there’s no cure
Not even a prophylactic

[CHORUS]
Baronesse de Prophylactic!
Baronesse de Prophylactic!
When the blue coats chase you up the wrong track
Don’t trust her to have your back!

We’re good enough to work for her,
And she pays well enough, that’s true
But when it comes to weighty matters
She hasn’t invited you!

She’s got her place at the big table
While we’re crawling on all fours:
Her masters on the Council
Won’t let you forget yours

[CHORUS]
Baronesse de Prophylactic!
Baronesse de Prophylactic!
When the Council tore up the Constitution,
Did you expect her to show contrition?

I hope we’ve learned something today
Let’s not forget the facts
Some people claim to help others
Just to climb on their backs

So if you find yourself wanting,
Buried in a real deep fix
Don’t expect to be protected
By that sycophant Alix!

[CHORUS]
Baronesse de Prophylactic!
Baronesse de Prophylactic!
Don’t forget to smile and thank her
[The last verse is spoken without music or mirth]
When the Council’s boot is on your neck