peter blegvad, “king strut”
from: choices under pressure, 1983
“King Strut was just a baby back in 1951
His howls woke the neighbourhood, they had his parents done
For negligence or cruelty I forget which one
And the State took custody of their sickly son
No one ever dreamed that one day he’d become
King Strut
Short of temper, highly strung, with a shadow on his lung
King Strut flew off the handle if his vanity was stung
He could cut a foe to pieces using nothing but his tongue
And a technical vocabulary vast for one so young
Throughout the noisy orphanage his name was widely sung:
King Strut
Imagination, like a muscle, will increase with exercise
King Strut developed his by having dreams and telling lies
He’d describe a situation or a place of merchandise
He could summon it from nothing to appear before your eyes
Who was that masked man? Why was he in disguise?
King Strut
A man without a moral code is just an appetite
King Strut was on a diet growing luminous by eating light
He’d left the institution under cover of the night
And was looking for employment, answering to Dwight
Sleeping in a doorway, minus twenty Fahrenheit
His Majesty, Dwight Strut
He sheltered under cardboard, above a subway vent
And one night took in the victim of a suspicious accident
As dawn came up he knew the man’s death was inminent
The man called out a number. King Strut asked him what it meant
It meant the man had something valuable he wanted to present
King Strut
Some say it was a diamond, like the crown-jewel Kohinoor
Or a talisman empowered by an ancient conjuror
A hot tip or a claim-check, no one knows for sure
All we know is King Strut changed, overnight, from being poor
To being an authority, philanthropist, connoisseur
Who paid for what he wanted with a simple signature...
He paid to house the homeless. They worked for him to pay their rents
And they recruited others to help spread his influence
He fed a hundred million hungry at his own expense
Popes and potentates applied and were denied an audience
”He’s got too damn many dollars,” they said, “not enough sense.”
King Strut
A man believes his dreams are real, he’s said to be deranged
His dreams are compensation for the things he cannot change
A man can be in slavery, he doesn’t have to be in chains
He’s waving out the window. The infirmary’s in flames
But instead of crying fire, he pronounced the name of names
King Strut
”
When things seem improbable and the odds are getting even with us, it’s refreshing to remember there may be more in store than what we bargined for! Enter Mr.Blegvad a wizard whose undercard of a life begs to differ with the obvious. Fans of the Bop Shop would do well to go down the rabbit hole investigating his many charms.
Blegvad record projects with XTC’s Andy Partridge