Scottish Beans...

Now in Scotland there’s a legend
of a family; name of Bean
Cannibals they were
a clan of robbers and real mean

‘Twas a distant cousin; passed
that left him all of these
A cache of notes for cooking
secret family recipes

Killer stands there at the station
the rail-coach pulls away
One lone figure stands in shadow
Silhouette in fading day

Come with me, my cousin
The light is fading fast
We’ve a ways to go
while the daylight lasts

The path lead toward the seashore
They climbed down, the cliff a ways
Entrance to a cavern
revealed by sunset’s rays

A secret clan revival
from every foreign shore
There were a hundred people
maybe even more

Introduced to most of clan
handshaking all around
Patrick; head of family says;
So glad, that you’ve been found

Let’s get ourselves all ready
A hunt for meat has been arranged
The village bully is the target
they say he is deranged

We need some brawn to make the catch
If in fact it’s true
You look as though you’re our man
I think that you will do

Killer said he would be honored
He left with Uncles Jim and Joe
They knew the village well
so they had to go

Now the township was all quiet
‘Cept the tavern on the green
They heard the yells of terror
The bully Brian, drunk and mean

Small and timid Francis
was up against the wall
Brian had him by the neck
so he wouldn’t fall

Buy me another drink
you stupid little snot
Or I’ll change your fucking face
show you what I got

Killer’s hand was on his shoulder
the other on his wrist
He said; Just let him go
as he gave a little twist

Brian’s face lit up
like a lantern bright
Oh joy! He said, oh joy
Here’s someone wants to fight!

Twisting wrists were warring
shiny blades came out and played
A dance of death was stepped
knives of steel were waved

Straining, sweating muscles
pools of blood upon the floor
They embraced each other
pushing, shoving toward the door

Into dark, they went with curses
out in the yard they fell
Then back inside, they came
like demons out of hell

Killer felt the man was shaken
Never had a fight like this
Gave a final heave of strength
delivered Bowie’s kiss

A stream of bloody-red,
tracked from scrotum to the chin
Through clothes and leather belt
deep into toughened skin

Brian’s body shuddered
threw up hands with knuckles skinned
His legs jerked out from under
eyes widened, then they dimmed

A low and throaty breath
sighs out from in his chest
Blood bubbles darkly red
from it’s pumping nest

The village dark as they pass
shutters closed against the night
No one missing bully Brian
the clan moves out of sight

Back at the caverns by the sea
in the cliffs, the fires burning
White beans and water simmer
There’s spits for roasting, turning

Shanks of leg, being barbecued
in sauce that’s hot and sweet
Worstershire and garlic
brown sugar on the meat

A little bit of onion, chopped
tomatos and some salt
Bourbon and cayenne
You don’t like it; not my fault

Scraps of meat between the cuts
Fat and marrow too
Celery, carrots and ‘taters
go in a soupy stew

‘Shrooms and onions diced
Chopped parsely and some Thyme
Rosemary’s spice and pepper
A cup of cooking-wine

The recipes of three-hundred years
were passed on and tasted too
There were sausage meat-pies hot
Barley in the stew

Music from different countries
dancing ‘round the fire
Young love retiring early
Elders filled with new desire

A feast of another bad-guy
well deserved, his fate
And he had all the honor
he was on everybody’s plate