Comments
Loading Dream Comments...
You must be logged in to write a comment - Log In
ArtistA grim, cinematic underground carnival scene during a violent rainstorm in a forgotten valley at dusk. A crooked carnival caravan sits abandoned on a muddy ridge above a swollen riverbed, slowly tilting into collapsing earth. In the foreground, three exhausted dwarves in soaked work clothes stand beside a shallow grave where the bloated corpse of a skeletal horse named Sorrow rises from the mud. Black crows descend in spirals through hammering rain. Nearby, a cruel carnival boss in a long wet coat waves a smoking revolver while bedraggled carnies flee toward rattling wagons. Mangy circus cats snarl from cages, a terrified bird-girl flaps wildly in the storm, and towering strongman Atlas watches silently. Torn canvas flaps whip in the wind, mud slides down the hillside, and rotten hay clings to wagon wheels. The atmosphere is mournful, apocalyptic, grotesque, and poetic — wet fur, rusted metal, rotting wood, lantern light glowing through rain sheets. Visual style combines dark Americana, expressionist underground comics, gothic realism, carnival noir, and dustbowl surrealism. Heavy crosshatching, dramatic shadows, cinematic composition, wide-angle perspective, muted earth tones with flashes of lantern gold and storm-gray blue. No text, no panel borders, no logos.
And no one saw the Carny go, the weeks flew by
Until they moved on the show, leaving his caravan behind
It was parked out on the south east ridge
And as the company crossed the bridge
With the first rain filling the bone-dry river bed
It shone, just so, on the edge
Away, away, we're sad to say
Dog-boy, Atlas, Mandrake, the geeks, the hired hands
There was not one among them that did not cast an eye behind
In the hope that the Carny would return to his own kind
The Carny left behind a horse so skin and bone
That he'd named Sorrow
And it was a shallow, unmarked grave
That that old nag was laid
In the then parched meadow
And it was the dwarves that were given the task of digging the ditch
And laying the nag's carcass in the ground
While boss Bellini, waved his smoking pistol around
Saying "The nag was dead meat
We can't afford to carry dead weight"
While the whole company standing about
Not making a sound
And turning to the dwarves perched on the enclosure gate
The boss says, "Bury this lump of crow bait"
And the rain came hammering down
Everybody running for their wagons
Tying all the canvas flaps down
The mangy cats growling in their cages
The bird-girl flapping and squawking around
The whole valley reeking of wet beast
Wet beast and rotten, sodden hay
Freak and brute creation
All packed up and on their way
The three dwarves peering from their wagon's hind
Moses says to Noah, "Shoulda dug a deeper one"
Their grizzled faces like dying moons
Still dirty from the digging done
And Charlie the Atlas to the three said
"I guess the Carny ain't gonna show"
And they were silent for a spell
Wishing they'd done a better job of burying Sorrow
And the company passed from the valley
Into higher ground
The rain beat on the ridge and on the meadow
And on the mound
Until nothing was left, nothing left at all
Except the body of Sorrow
That rose in time
To float upon the surface of the eaten soil
And a murder of crows did circle 'round
First one, then the others flapping blackly down
And the Carny's van still sat upon the edge
Tilting slowly as the firm ground turned to sludge
And the rain it hammered down
And the rain it hammered down
And the rain it hammered down
And the rain it hammered down
And no one saw the Carny go
No one saw the Carny go
No one saw the Carny go
I say, it's funny how things go...
