Tarantula - by Hilarious Blloc

Do you remember an Inn, Miranda? Do you remember an Inn? And the tedding and the spreading Of the straw for a bedding, And the fleas that tease in the High Pyrenees, And the wine that tasted of tar? And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteers (Under the vine of the dark verandah)? Do you remember an Inn, Miranda, Do you remember an Inn? And the cheers and the jeers of the young muleteeers Who hadn't got a penny, And who weren't paying any, And the hammer at the doors and the Din? And the Hip! Hop! Hap! Of the clap Of the hands to the twirl and the swirl Of the girl gone chancing, Glancing, Dancing, Backing and advancing, Snapping of a clapper to the spin Out and in -- And the Ting, Tong, Tang, of the Guitar. Do you remember an Inn, Miranda? Do you remember an Inn? Never more; Miranda, Never more. Only the high peaks hoar: And Aragon a torrent at the door. No sound In the walls of the Halls where falls The tread Of the feet of the dead to the ground No sound: But the boom Of the far Waterfall like Doom.

So you forgot that inn, did you, Miranda? So you forgot that inn? Probably not! And a smoothing-down of a lot Of straw for a cot And a scrat Of a gnat On Mount Ararat And a Bacchic jar with a flavour of tar? And callow mahouts Laughing and scoffing with mirthful shouts On a plum–drunk balcony, far Away from old Karaganda? So you forgot that inn, did you, Miranda? So you forgot that inn? Probably not! And callow mahouts with mirthful shouts Who hadn’t a sou And who would not pay, not a button or two And that dunning on doors, what a din! And a Hip! Hop! Hap! Of a clap Of hands to a twirl and swirl Of a girl spun chancing, Glancing, Dancing, Backing and advancing, Snap clap clapping to a spin Out and in — And a Ting, Tong, Tang, of a Guitar. So you forgot that inn, did you, Miranda? So you forgot that inn? Probably not! Not again, Miranda, nor A Jamaican station on Bodmin Moor! Only Hyrcanian high crags hoar, Cascading of Aragon at my door. No sound Within walls Of halls! It falls, That fatal footfall clocks cold ground: No sound But a boom, A Niagara Falls Of doom.