Discover the poetic beauty in ‘The Colonial Wing [*]’ by 10,000 Maniacs. This lyric breakdown takes you on a journey through the artist’s thoughts, emotions, and the story they aim to tell. From clever metaphors to evocative imagery, we delve into the nuances that make this song a lyrical masterpiece. Whether you’re a fan of 10,000 Maniacs or a lover of well-crafted words, our detailed analysis will give you a deeper understanding and appreciation of this song.
Here is the store house of Her Majesty
Well guarded by sentry
But looks are free
Call this the rayless and benighted age
Witches by tallow candles shifted
Shifted their shapes
Here is the pestle and mortar
That ground the poison seed
A lute, a suit for jousting
And the poems of a balladeer
When all the Latin books were copied off
In golden script
Well hoarded away in
A monastery crypt
Superstition
Superstition beyond belief
Over mountain, over dune and over sea
Crude map and compass lead the caravan
And lead the fleet
Here’s the loot and plunder
They bore home
Ivory tusk inlaid with precious stone
Raw silk and spices by the barrel load
A soft skin drum with mallets
Of human bone
A world wide rampage
Rampage of greed
So here the tour concludes
The Colonial Wing
The rooms of the most refined
Museum property
An early pair of spectacles
A claw footed divan
Ornate clocks with birds that strut
On the half hours and quarter hours
Hear them chime