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BLACK

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Black Adder - Rowan Atkinson
 
[Silence]

FIRST VOICE [very softly]

To begin at the beginning:

It is Spring, moonless night in the small town, starless and bible-black, the cobblestreets silent and the hunched, courters'-and- rabbits' wood limping invisible down to the sloeblack, slow, black, crowblack, fishingboat-bobbing sea. The houses are blind as moles (though moles see fine to-night in the snouting, velvet dingles) or blind as Captain Cat there in the muffled middle by the pump and the town clock, the shops in mourning, the Welfare Hall in widows' weeds. And all the people of the lulled and dumbfound town are sleeping now.

- Dylan Thomas, Under Milk Wood
 
To paraphrase:

Hello darkness my old friend
I've bumped in to the wall again
Bashed my head and stubbed my toe
Really not the way to go
 
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