1. |
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A long time ago in a galaxy now spread thin
In the heart of a young hot star brewed the elements so that your magic might begin
And like future hearts that would beat for you it grew and grew to the point of bursting
Scattered itself across the sky, a glimmer in a goddess eye she spread her arms and pulled the love back in
So never doubt that your tousled hair is lovely
That the sweat from your struggle has the scent of divinity
That the rivers of the ancients course the channels of your shackled forearms
That the crystals in your wetware are the legacies of ancient galaxies
'Cause even your filth is stardust
Even your dirt is divine
The sweat on your brow proves the Sun's trust
That even your filth is stardust
For all time
A long time ago looking in a water bowl of earth and clay
Traded reflections of the stars and moon for facial paints and rare perfumes, a stag gains ground that a goddess gives away
The white witches of the northern climes took starlight underground to hide the glitter from the lies
So let the red mud dry upon your thighs, drink the water like a crone under the devil's eyes, the time has come again for the maiden's lusty cries
So never doubt that your tousled hair is lovely
That the sweat from your struggle has the scent of divinity
That the rivers of the ancients course the channels of your shackled forearms
That the crystals in your wetware are the legacies of ancient galaxies
'Cause even your filth is stardust
Even your dirt is divine
The sweat on your brow proves the Sun's trust
That even your filth is stardust
For all time
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2. |
Still You Rise
03:06
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3. |
Ricochet
03:32
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Don’t love me from afar
dont love me tomorrow
dont call me then head to the bar
to drown another man’s sorrow
love me with your breath
love me with your fingers
love me with your dark caress
the breath of your body lingers
And in my mind i sense the ricochet straight to my heart then deflect away tired of watching you ricochet
off of my heart, off of my body
don’t love me like a brother
dont worry about losing a friend
dont call these confusions or romantic delusions
even friendships can come to an end
so love me here and now
forget things that start with tomorrow
you don’t need more time or a mountain to climb
just a heart-beating opening flower
tired of being your ricochet
straight to my heart then deflect away tired of watching you ricochet
off of my body off of my heart tired of watching you ricochet off of my heart
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4. |
Reactive
05:58
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Are you more than just a sum of these reactions
I can hear it in your cries,
See something that’s still active in your eyes
You still give rise
To small acts of creation
Uncle Fritz, he scratched an itch, that’s a reaction
But the sources of that itch,
Where active styles switch once formed the grist
For monkeys in the mist
To fashion our creation
Active and reactive
Two forces both attractive
One builds better days
The other washes them away
The tide rolls in….
You want the secret to living a life that’s less reactive
Its through the rituals we choose,
The bodies that we bruise so that they’re stronger
And our days are longer
And full of small creation
You want the secret to a life that fully active
Its a struggle every day,
No one showing you the way
But you’ll meet others
Traveler and lovers
Of the small acts of creation
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5. |
Flatland: A Romance
06:10
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Is your eye
Gripped by the ground
Or can it turn
Discover sky
Add up and down
To a love that merely spreads
Can you add zed
To X and Y
We lived in a Flatland
Gawking at the spheres
Hardluck in the Flatland
Horizon cut by Fears
What we thought was love in the flatland
Was just a shallow veil of tears
We lived in a flatland
Gawking at the spheres
As the penetrate this plane
Our lover’s dance can’t help but wax and wane
We leave the last men standing blinking
What is really rising he sees as shrinking
What new dimensions shape these ways
What colors lie behind these grays
The vision the sound the fury sways
The ground gripped cry beyonders
Is your ”I”….
Our time in the flatland
Was blind to hidden skies
Rough trade in the flatland
Amidst a storm of beastly cries
What we thought was love in the flatland
Just a projection a thin disguise
So lift yourself off of this flatland
I beckon you please rise
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The Darwathustra Experiment Tempe, Arizona
Songs of emancipation once railed against the assembly line; what should their target be now that we are the assembled? The
answer must move beyond Nihilism. New values, multiplex perspectives, and experiments in living are needed.
The Darwathustra Experiment has arrived to sing of self-overcoming, of a love most biological, of destinies that are not simply given but must be earned.
... more
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