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The Carioca

Daniel Handler

Daniel Handler — The Carioca (Dec 10, 2012, on NPR Fresh Air)

Mr. Snicket’s official representative performs for Terry Gross, from NPR Fresh Air, a song that was composed for Lemony Snicket’s first book in the All The Wrong Questions-series, titled Who Could That Be At This Hour?.

LYRICS:

When things explode
we hit the road
well it’s been a lovely visit.

But if we can decode
our secret code
it isn’t a secret, is it?

Dressed à la mode
and furbelowed
we’re working to change this planet.

But if we can decode
our secret code
it can’t be a secret, can it?

I will not do the Carioca
which is a dance that goes like this.
But if I did the Carioca
it would be heaven, it would be bliss.

I’ll never do the Carioca
which is a dance that goes like this
But if I did the Carioca
it would be heaven, it would be bliss.

Strange seeds we’ve sowed
Hard rows we’ve… hoed
So please don’t say easy does it.

We don’t agree
‘cause if we can decode
our secret code
it wasn’t a secret, was it?

Into town we rode
Our bows are stowed
And we rarely wear our hair long.

But if we can decode
their secret code
it won’t be a secret erelong.

Then we can do the Carioca
indefinitely if we like
And those who poo poo Carioca
they can all go take a hike

We go do the Carioca
which is a dance that goes like this.
And when we do the Carioca
it will be heaven, it will be bliss.

Tralalalalalalala
Trala trala trala trala
Tralalalalalalala
Latra latra latra
Tralalalalalatata
Tralalalalalalala
Tralalalalalalala
Tralalalalalalala

“There's an easy method for finding someone when you hear them scream. First get a clean sheet of paper and a sharp pencil. Then sketch out nine rows of fourteen squares each. Then throw the piece of paper away and find whoever is screaming so you can help them. It is no time to fiddle with paper.”

—Lemony Snicker, Who Could That Be at This Hour?

The Lemony Snicket fandom waited 2,202 days for a new book.

October 13th 2006 - October 23rd 2012 

“The ink has begun to fade from the sea The coffee is starting to sour; But the question that troubles all business in town is Who could that be at this hour? Why does the librarian weep every night? Why is the chemist so dour? Why is the statue on everyone’s mind? Who could that be at this hour? A scream can be heard from a mansion thought empty, A bell can be heard from the tower, A question is whispered from behind ev’ry door: Who could that be at this hour?- When the dark sun rises it burns like a blaze, The rain is an icy-cold shower, But at night the inhabitants look to the sky- Who could that be at this hour? What is that hovering over this town? What sinister thing comes to power? What questions unasked hold the answers unsaid? Who could that be at this hour? At night, some horrible thing comes to life, It blooms like some dark, evil flower, It rattles and knocks as it slithers on past, Who could that be at this hour? What will you do when they strike in the night? Will you stand? Will you run? Will you cower? Who will you turn to when all seems quite lost? Who could that be at this hour? ”

—Lemony Snicket
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