The first one to exit The Encyclopaedists
Was an energetic playboy on the town
He wanted to be seen at a photogenic spot
And wasn't very happy with the alleys they went down
He didn't want to order wine in violent bars
He didn't want to wander round the docks
He didn't want to have a confusing altercation
After sixteen measures of gin on the rocks

The next one to leave the group was in politics
She had a niche perspective on the role of work
A bartender refused to serve somebody so drunk
So she ranted that the staff were all thugs losers and jerks
She wasn't on a search for those transcendental thoughts
She didn't find joy on the path
She didn't find the comfort at the bottom of her glass
Despite giving her insides such a long warm bath

The third one to drop was a congenial chap
Who treated everyone he met with polite respect
At the 6th venue locals asked to utilise his form
As an experimental sexual project
He didn't want to change orientation without thought
He didn't want to have an awkward talk
He didn't want to tell them all to kindly bugger off
So he bid good night and headed on a walk

The Encyclopaedists are a scholarly mission
They are psychonauts on a quest to find
Every public house from Torry to Babylon
And what motivates themselves to drink until they are blind

The fourth one to leave them was a hardcore punk girl
Doing lines between pints and between tracks
She couldn't listen to them drone about Kerouac
So she punched someone and fell over right on her ass
She didn't want to wait until the buzz rose to her
She didn't want to take in the scene
She didn't want to pace her intake of substances
She refused the mythic because she preferred the spleen

The fifth one to say goodbye was a real talker
Who could orate till your heart wanted to stop
After the 15th venue and eighteen thousand words
His poor vocal chords gave out and his swollen head popped
He didn't want to listen to the others' talk
He didn't want to open up to space
He didn't want to shut up for a single damn second
So he wandered off to chat in cyberspace

The ones who remained on this nomadic campaign
Were dedicated down to the last
To exploring these caves of human remains
When everything that once was logical has long long passed
They wanted to illuminate the promenade's end
Where nightlands began in the mind
They wanted to feel what fellow creatures feel:
In secluded nightlands we are all entwined

The Encyclopaedists are a scholarly mission
They are psychonauts on a quest to find
Every public house from Torry to Babylon
And what motivates themselves to drink until they are blind
The Encyclopaedists are a scholarly mission
They are psychonauts on a quest to solve
The question of whether nightlands really exist
Or if enough drinking will make them dissolve