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Words & music

 Ed Pickford © prs


It was just after the bingo in club-land

The comedian was dying the death

The audience in droves where departing

Leaving only the lame and the deaf

On stage stood the lonely comedian

A microphone stuck in his paw

As down through the gaps in the audience

He could see more and more of the floor

Suddenly despair overtook him

As he gazed at the vanishing throng

Night after night it was like this

Could it be that something was wrong?

His suit was the best he could purchase

His shirt and his tie were a treat

How could it be they disliked him

With comments I dare not repeat

Why had he become a comedian?

To suffer this miserable fate

Was it just deluded ambition

Or his mother who swore he was great?  

He’d smiled when peppered beer mats

He’d grinned when they’d cried, ”Get them off!”

But now - the final humiliation

They weren’t even stopping to scoff!

“Stop!” cried a voice from within him - “Stop and listen awhile

One minute I crave of your patience

Though maybe I’ve not made you smile

I’ve tried like the troopers before me

Our reward just a little applause

For me it’s never been easy

Oh yes -I’ve been through the wars

Booed off in Birtley – Pelted in Pelton – ferret down the trousers in Ferryhill


Well I’m finished – I’ve had it – I’m done for

You proved that for certain tonight

The minute that meat pie – and mushy peas [slightly over cooked but tasty] - connected

Suddenly – as they say – there was light


Go off to the lounge get a skinful

Buy a few more to take out

Go home – feed your faces – forget about me

I’m not even worth bothering about

The wife and the kids? Don’t worry about them

They’ll get by with nothing to eat

Why should you worry if they got to bed hungry?

Or have no little shoes on their feet.

This is my living – entertaining

The audience is blood in my veins

Without you there’s no reason for living

On your laughter my future waxes or wanes”


The room was all silent and tearful

Then - punctuated by 50 a day cough

The concert chairman leaned forward all tearful

And said, “Right son - you’re paid off!”

With only half fee in his pocket

Stood the comedian - in the car park - alone

His career behind him in ruins

As he mounted his bike to ride home

Half crazed by depression and failure

Ashamed that he’s caused such a fuss

He swept from the scene of his heartache

Straight under the “23” bus

As he lay there in the glare of the headlights

The rain was beginning to fall

He said, “Thank you for being a wonderful audience

Goodnight and God bless one and all!”

Death of a Comedian - monologue