Bishonen Lyrics - Momus

I was born in the town of Paisley in early 1960 

And placed in the care of an old eternal bachelor 

A strict disciplinarian, a passionate antiquarian 

His collection of myths and legends was spectacular 

As a younger man he'd been to see Japan 

Where a master in a white kimono taught him 

In a shining moment the myth of the bishonen 

The youthful hero doomed to fall like blossom 

And how could I forgive the ugly fugitive 

Who brought me up according to a fantasy? 

For when the old man stared at me 

He drowned in evil beauty 

Thinking of the early death in store for me 

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He taught me to be good with words, he bought me ceremonial swords 

And in this way came grace and expertise 

The words were to cut down and to kill the muscle-bound 

The swords to fell my intellectual enemies 

And women should be hated but first impersonated 

Charm, he said, is essential to misogyny 

He taught me how to woo the girls in order to outdo the girls 

And the fun would come when I'd got them to love me 

And how could I resist the old misogynist 

Who brought me up according to a fantasy? 

My softness and fragility 

My feminine grace and delicacy 

Made death himself afraid for me 

And so in time I grew to be blond and beautiful 

Pale and frail, with many male admirers 

I was promised by my father a retainer for a partner 

So loyal that nothing could divide us 

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Shocked by my suggestion that I'd rather have a woman 

My stepfather replied I had no choice 

This man would cut his entrails open protecting his bishonen 

He informed me in a solemn, trembling voice 

How could I disobey that surreptitious gay 

Who brought me up according to a fantasy? 

For when the old man stared at me 

He drowned in evil beauty 

Thinking of the early death in store for me 

So me and my retainer encountered many dangers 

On travels through the North and through the South 

We ripped open the bellies of many famous bullies 

And our reputation spread by word of mouth 

In the mountains of Morocco we stopped and shared a bottle 

With a blind old man with a bearded, bandaged face 

And though the sun had sunk and the man was very drunk 

He seemed to speak with my stepfather's voice 

Saying "How could you forget the aging martinet 

Who brought you up according to a fantasy? 

Your softness and fragility 

Your feminine grace and delicacy 

Will be the death of me" 

Surprised at 28 to find myself so late 

Changing from a boy into a man 

I'm starting to feel guilty that nobody has killed me 

Early as my stepfather had planned 

I've found myself a girl and stopped roaming the world 

My retainer's gone to be a mercenary 

Now I work in a merchant bank, I'm well-liked by the senior ranks 

Though behind my back the juniors call me fairy 

And how can I placate the ugly reprobate 

Who brought me up according to a fantasy? 

For when the old man stared at me 

He drowned in evil beauty 

Thinking of the early death in store for me 

I stay awake some nights when my wife turns off the lights 

And starts breathing regularly next to me 

And I think of fallen petals and bodies pierced by metal 

And how I'll never now fulfill my destiny 

Father spare my shame, let me pass my name 

To a boy with greater beauty and more bravery 

For if I have a son I'm going to raise him to die young 

And lay him in the grave that you prepared for me