Lyric Context: introduction (wilson prelude)

wilson

once upon a time there was a mountain that rose out of a vast green forest. and in the forest there were birds and lakes and rocks and trees and rivers. the forest was also inhabited by a small group of people called the lizards. the lizards were a simple people and they had lived in the forest undisturbed for thousands of years in utter peace and tranquillity. once a year when spring came

and the first blossoms began to show

the lizards would gather at the base of the mountain

to give thanks for all that they had. they thanked the birds and they thanked the lakes and they thanked the rocks and the trees and the rivers; but most importantly

they thanked icculus. icculus lived at the top of the mountain

or at least everyone thought so

for no one had actually ever seen him. but they knew he existed

because they had the helping friendly book. icculus had given the helping friendly book to the lizards thousands of years earlier as a gift. it contained all of the knowledge inherent in the universe

and had enabled the lizards to exist in harmony with nature for years. and so they lived; until one day a traveler arrived in gamehendge. his name was wilson and he quickly became intrigued by the lizards way of life. he asked if he could stay on and live in the forest; and the lizards

who had never seen an outsider

were happy to oblige. wilson lived with the lizards for a few years

studying the ways of the helping friendly book

and all was well. until one morning when they awoke and the book was gone. wilson explained that he had hidden the book

knowing that the lizards had become dependent on it for survival. he declared himself king and enslaved the innocent people of gamehendge. he cut down the trees and built a city

which he called prussia. and in the center of the city he built a castle

and locked in the highest tower of the castle lay the helping friendly book out of the reach of the lizards forever. but our story begins at a different time

not in gamehendge

but on a suburban street in long island

and our hero is no king sitting in a castle

he is a retired colonel shaving in his bathroom. colonel forbin looked square in the mirror and dragged the blade across his cold creamed skin. he saw the tired little folds of flesh that lay in a heap beneath his eyes. fifty-two years of obedient self-restraint

of hiding his tension behind a serene veil of composure. for fifty-two years he had piled it all on the back burner

and for fifty-two years it had boiled

frothing over in a turbulent storm inside of him. it had escaped through his eyes

reacting with the cigarette smoke and the fluorescent lights and slowly accumulating into a sagging mass. he ran his dripping palm across the stubble on the nape of his neck and thought again about the door. he had discovered the door some months back on one of his ritualistic morning walks with his dog mcgrupp. it had started out as a typical stroll with mcgrupp bounding joyously ahead of the preoccupied colonel. as they reached the apex of the hill

he saw it and he knew it had always been there

and felt foolish for overlooking the door for so long. at first

he tried to ignore it

but he soon found that it was impossible

and slowly his newly acquired knowledge transformed his dreary life into a prison from which there was only one escape. and on this morning

colonel forbin stepped through the door.