The Legend of Hardhead Ned

Once upon a time in a remote Tasmanian trailer park

There was born a baby boy by the name of Nedson Willbry

One day when Nedson was a baby, his crackhead teen mum

Got real distracted watching Teen Mum on the telly and dropped Ned right on his noggin

Leaving a bump on top of his head

The little bean stopped squirming

And his mum thought he was surely done for

So mummy brought the tiny bundle to the forest during a terrible storm

And left him for dead in a field of pumpkins and wolves

But just then lighting struck

And a cry cut through the night light like a siren on a fire truck

Ned survived by the slightest luck, he wasn’t a dead baby, Neddy was alive as fuck!

It was a miracle we’re hearing

The creatures of the evening came creeping to the clearing

To see this little man nugget

Soon to be immortalized in poetry just like the man from Nantucket

But as the little babe was grown

They gave to him their home

And raised him as their own

He roamed and trapezed from the tallest trees (whee!)

He got his steez from the wallabies

They all loved him

But the Tasmanian Devils loved little Neddy more than all of ‘em

They taught him how to spin like a fan

till Ned spun himself into a fine young man

But one day like a sick disease

Loggers crept in and chopped the eucalyptus trees

They smushed the cuddly forest creatures

And turned ‘em into body wash and sneakers

But Ned escaped and yelled angrily

That "You abandoned me!

You killed my family!

But God dammit, I can’t use your pity"

And he snuck onto a ship bound for New York City

Ned’s voyage led him to the deepest, darkest, dankest bowels of that ship

He met all kinds of seedy characters on that voyage, like old Japanese men and their wives

He had meals of fresh cut sashimi, pumpkin pie

And all kinds of delicious breads and cookies and cakes

When he was on that voyage he knew what lied ahead

So he kept his sights set on New York City

And before he knew it, he arrived

Ned almost drowned

He kissed the ground

But his guts were churned up in this town

Where down was up and up was down

So the boy from Down Under flipped right around

Ned did a cartwheel and stopped halfway

And he walked on his palms from that day

But cityfolk treated Ned like a freak

“That handwalking lumpheaded Yeti can’t speak”

One night walking home Ned was quite shocked

He saw a B-boy spinning on the sidewalk

He couldn’t stop, wouldn’t stop

Staring at those limbs, spinning like a wooden top

Sweeter than puddin’ pop, Ned was home at last

And every night he’d watch ‘em dance through the glass

Of the club, and he’d wait there in line for his chance

But the bouncer said: "freak, you can’t dance!"

Oh but Ned, sweet little Ned, he wouldn’t get out of line

And the bouncer pushed him, and pushed him

But to catch his balance, Ned, hardheaded, upside down Ned did what Ned did best

He just spun. And he spun. And he spun. And he spun!

(Go Ned, go Ned, go, go, go Ned!)

Everyone in the club came out to watch what is now regarded

As the greatest fucking head spin of all time

Legend has it that Ned’s still out there on Bleecker Street

Spinning on the curb to this very day