A standout track on a very powerful album, Assassing off Marillion's 1984 album Fugazi (Italian for 'fucked-up' apparently)... It was inspired by snotty drummers, reflecting the problems the band had filling the drum stool after Mick Pointer upped and left the band on the cusp of major success. Anyway, destiny was on the side of Marillion, and, with Ian Mosley on sticks, the band made the final push to becoming the greatest prog rock band ever, bar none.
This performance, which took place on the 18th of July, 1987, is from Live at Loreley, first released as a live video in 1987, and shows the band at the height of their success with Fish dressed not unlike a technicoloured version of Rab C. Nesbitt.
This performance, which took place on the 18th of July, 1987, is from Live at Loreley, first released as a live video in 1987, and shows the band at the height of their success with Fish dressed not unlike a technicoloured version of Rab C. Nesbitt.
Lyrics:
I am the assassin, with tongue forged from eloquence
I am the assassin, providing your nemesis
On the sacraficial altar to success, my friend
Unleash a stranger from a kiss, my friend
No incantations of remorse, my friend
Unsheath the blade within the voice
my friend, my friend, my friend, my friend
I am the assassin, (assassin, assassin)
Who decorates the scarf with the fugi knot
Who camouflaged emotion in the thousand-yard stare
Who gouged the notches in the family tree
Who hypnotized the guilt in career rhythm trance
Assassin, assassin, assassin, assassin...
Listen as the syllables of slaughter cut with calm precision
Patterned frosty phrases rape your ears and sew the ice incision
Adjectives of annihilation bury the point beyond redemption
Venomous verbs of ruthless candor plagiarize assassins' fervor
Apocalyptic alphabet casting spell, the creed of tempered diction
my friend, your friend, the assassin
my friend, your friend, the assassin
A friend in need, is a friend that bleeds...
(my friend, your friend, the assassin)
A friend in need, is a friend that bleeds...
(my friend, your friend, the assassin)
Let bitter silence infect the wound
Let bitter silence infect the wound
I am the assassin, (your friend)
I am the assassin, (your friend)
I am the assassin, (your friend)
Assassin!
You were a sentimental mercenary in a free-fire zone
Parading a Hollywood conscience
You were a fashionable objector with a uniform fetish
Pavlovian slaver at the cash till ring of success
A noncom observer, I assassin, the collector... defector
So you resigned yourself to failure, my friend
And I emerged the chilling stranger, my friend
To eradicate the problem, my friend
Unsheath the blade within the voice
within the voice, within the voice
within the voice
And what do you call assassins who accuse assassins, anyway...
my friend?
I am the assassin, with tongue forged from eloquence
I am the assassin, providing your nemesis
On the sacraficial altar to success, my friend
Unleash a stranger from a kiss, my friend
No incantations of remorse, my friend
Unsheath the blade within the voice
my friend, my friend, my friend, my friend
I am the assassin, (assassin, assassin)
Who decorates the scarf with the fugi knot
Who camouflaged emotion in the thousand-yard stare
Who gouged the notches in the family tree
Who hypnotized the guilt in career rhythm trance
Assassin, assassin, assassin, assassin...
Listen as the syllables of slaughter cut with calm precision
Patterned frosty phrases rape your ears and sew the ice incision
Adjectives of annihilation bury the point beyond redemption
Venomous verbs of ruthless candor plagiarize assassins' fervor
Apocalyptic alphabet casting spell, the creed of tempered diction
my friend, your friend, the assassin
my friend, your friend, the assassin
A friend in need, is a friend that bleeds...
(my friend, your friend, the assassin)
A friend in need, is a friend that bleeds...
(my friend, your friend, the assassin)
Let bitter silence infect the wound
Let bitter silence infect the wound
I am the assassin, (your friend)
I am the assassin, (your friend)
I am the assassin, (your friend)
Assassin!
You were a sentimental mercenary in a free-fire zone
Parading a Hollywood conscience
You were a fashionable objector with a uniform fetish
Pavlovian slaver at the cash till ring of success
A noncom observer, I assassin, the collector... defector
So you resigned yourself to failure, my friend
And I emerged the chilling stranger, my friend
To eradicate the problem, my friend
Unsheath the blade within the voice
within the voice, within the voice
within the voice
And what do you call assassins who accuse assassins, anyway...
my friend?
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