Ulysses dies at dawn
At least, that's the word on the street
From those that saw what went down at Calypso's
Now, listen up
'Cause we've got a labyrinthine twisted task of a tale to tell
And if you don't keep up, you might get lost
First, to understand how this all goes down
You've got to know a little about the planet we're talking of
See, on this planet there was a city, grim old city
Sort of place the rain beats down like coffin nails
And the air wafts with the cigarette stench of betrayal
My kind of town
Now this city, grim old city, it starts to grow
And when it meets with other towns, other cities
It takes them into itself
Absorbs them until soon enough there's no land left
So the city spreads outwards into the sea
And when there's no sea left, the sea spreads upwards into the sky
And when there is no sky left, it burrows inwards
Like a cancer into the bowels of the planet
And eventually, there is nothing but the city
And so generations live and generations die in the
Warrens and the tunnels and even the lower levels of the surface
And they never see the sun
And it's in one of the deepest
Most secret of these tunnels that we meet our hero
Goes by the name of Ulysses
Currently beaten, battered, bloody, unbowed
Spits out a mouthful of teeth and disdain and looks up
To see four of the meanest bastards of the meanest streets
Of the meanest parts of the city
All immaculately turned out in pinstripes
We'll call them the Suits
You might ask how we came to such a pass
I know Ulysses is
Well, it started in a bar, as these things so often do
Calypso's, a run down old gin joint, pays its money to Dionysus
Our hero, slumped over a bottle of whiskey,
Trying to drown enough sorrows to choke a horse
And one horse in particular