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THEREFORE : SOUL WHEREAS : I am a firm believer in the oral transmission, and the intimate sharing of stories songs and knowledge despite the fact that I grew up in a culture surrounded by books, LPs and CDs, where you can listen to the same song a hunred times over. WHEREAS : The technology of the times dictates the transmission. WHEREAS : It is the responsibility of artists to contribute to the evolution of their society by reminding people of their soul and their own inherent creativity, potential and power. WHEREAS : The Flaccid Lifelessness of soul-less non-awake humans is destroying life on this planet at an insane rate, the way orcs destroy trees. WHEREAS : Soul-less non-awake people cannot be forced into soulful wakefulness, they must be seduced into it by beauty and come of it of their own free will because love is so beautiful. WHEREAS : Duplicating CDs and selling thousands of CDs puts people on a celebrity pedestal and creates separation from other humans and hierarchy of beauty. WHEREAS : I am a human and want to be respected as another human being with feelings and a mind! WHEREAS : People put pressure on their favorite performer to perform the same songs over and over and over the same way again they sounded on their albums which they listened to 200 times. WHEREAS : Songs are highly spontaneous and change every moment, are never the same way twice, and can express multiple levels of emotion. WHEREAS : If it weren't for non-oral-tradition I would not be aware of pygmy water music, Nina Simone or Hakim Bey, and they have all influenced me and changed my life. WHEREAS : It is crucial for me now to record an album that can reach souls further than my intimate body and eyes can reach in order to have a positive effect on souls in America and beyond. WHEREAS : I am recording this album with the intention that one day such materialistic innovations will be obselete. WHEREAS : The Master's Tools will Not Dismantle The Master's House. THEREFORE : WE MUST build new houses with new tools, built by people who want to change the house because the new house is so much more beautiful and soul fulfilling. THEREFORE : One day we won't need to record our music because everyone will be so awake and creative that we will all come together and sing joyeously in intimate gatherings and we will all be beautiful, and we will all worship in what we share together. . : : . THE ORAL TRADITION RE-COURTED No Lyrics . : : . WITHOUT RESERVATION 500 years of indigenocide Injustice has never been justified women and children have bled and cried and died and lived on barren earth besides the masses sit hypnotized quelled by passive disinterest and the media are just corporate spies that hide behind facades of free speech - telling us what to decide I say : find your own way : your own truth do not submit to those that will tell you lies to keep you pacified Hey - Yeah - Hey - Yeah Without Reservation We need to speak for all people, Yeah And everybody knows it's true But nobody knows what to do Give them back land they deserve or keep them chattled where we've reserved them to live Their home is their cemetary - Where we would not want to be In the rolling prairie South Dakota sea Void of trees and blistering snow past knees While we live comfortably - Living in the lap of luxury Eating everything that we can stuff Into our bellies to keep us safe and tough (or weak - it depends upon the way you see) Gluttony - is a sin, someone once told me It's a common enemy. It's a common enemy. Chorus It's the same around this globe of Earth Genocide for sake of nationalist turf Palestinians living as fenced in rats Corrupt leaders falling flat Politicians are all the same Playing proclamation games Chinese, Saudi, Chilean and British Bureaucracy makes me twitch And behind the barrel of every gun Is someone's daughter, someone's son But never a politician On violence this country was begun So do we really deserve to point the gun After September 11th 2001 Should we not consider repercussions? Can we really feel justified Because 3000 in one city died? The country's shock will only last As long as the networks keep us entranced Chorus And everyone is angry. There are a million truths And everybody knows what to do - But nobody can agree, cuz nobody can see anything, anything but themselves. . : : . LOVESONG FOR A LEAF there is a fig tree outside my bedroom window when i moved in, i opened the window and pulled off a ripe fig accepting the grace of this space given to me gratefully i stare out the window most days in a daze exhaling smoke from mine mouth i open the window to let the smoke tumble into the breeze but it's nearing winter and the afternoon air is a chill so i wear sweaters when i smoke there is a leaf from the fig tree trying to amble into my bedroom through the window making me wonder if i am a sun or a radiant source of light is this leaf in love with me? a human being with two eyes and a warm swollen yoni - when we made love you came into me with a moan and i said - SLOW stop right there. h o l d let me hold you in me move gently - like a branch in the breeze sway through me - and when you came i felt the leaf coming through you when i close the window, i close it gently - afraid of harming the leaf or causing it any more grief than it already feels because i am a human and it is a green plant growing outside my window coming inside quite like the way you come inside and make yourself at home - stay for a while and leaf. . : : . FOG Your joyeous smile is a lotus flower floating down river adrift on a current of bliss beating to the rhythm of a thump thump thump a thump a thump thump thump a man dances wildly ecstatically on the verge of utter annihilation his eyes overgrown like a mushroom cloud expanding at the pace of no space complete emptiness - pure essence in the midst of a gentle cloud rolling in from harbor there is a bay in your wide open mouth a-gaped open unbelieving that this fog is a being breathing, a creature creeping - over your tongue, on all fours a slow immersion that tastes subtly of lavender essence. what a joyeous dance! the smile on your face makes my entire being bloom. |
WEATHER UNDERGROUND How do you live with conscience In a society built upon violence? When your tax money goes to a government That sanctions genocide on every continent. How many millions murdered in Vietnam? How do you live with yourself, knowing what's going on? (What's going on? What's going on?) Weather Underground Can you shake the system without making a sound? Weather Underground How hot is the handle, will it all come crashing down? In a society of passive violence, Everyone participates by withholding resistance How do you live with yourself knowing that your government is actively genociding The planet to protect your economy So that you can buy freely anything that you see. (If you can afford it, can't be poor to support it.) Weather Underground Can you shake the system without making a sound? Weather Underground How hot is the handle, will it all come crashing down? 30 years later, you inspire me Connecting to your consience, actively, actively. Participating in a global movement (Of Revolution to Topple the Establishment) For good or bad, regrets aside - At least you stood with your heart's stride. (And empathized with the oppressed.) Weather Underground Giving voice to the Oppressed the whole world round. Weather Underground Bombing targets without killing what a beautiful sound. As of now, seems like little has changed. Forest defenders targeted by deranged Corporate sponsored government officials who don't see trees when they look at old growth all they see is money. So we'll destroy our fragile ecosystems. Fuck the planet. Fuck our souls, we'll all get rich quick. . : : . MY HEART IS WILDERNESS I am loud voice and soft touch upon sidewalk puddle surface tension my open hand skims water surface Reflection of trees in a mirror shadow the rain addled puddle undulates in slow waves converging at the core of being spirit of love the central emanation of water droplet piercing puddle tension effervescing from ephemeral heart flow from the inside out to make known the joy the ecstatic embrace the immersion of rain meets gravity meets puddle the cycle continues / the cycle continues sand becomes sandstone / sand becomes sandstone i am a song coming to the place where words have no name and tones exchange energy the devotion to song singing until my throat runs dry i will not be colonized my beauty will not be sold no treaties will be bargained do you know and do you see what they do to the indigenous heart beauty they eat it up and spit it back out commodify it and make a living no a killing no they make genocide! i will not allow my soul to be destroyed for an image or a dream of vain profit i will live to sing sing to live i'll give away my soul as what is not mine is not mine to keep my heart is wilderness and belongs to god you must not pave upon my dreams, my melodies, my harmonies... . : : . ETERNAL SOUL GAZERS this dirt is my tongue run your fingers hands claws through my taste buds you are my sweet nectar let me taste you dip your toes in fine wine and dance on the roof of my mouth you are the flame and i am the spark there is no separation between the ecstatic taste and that which is tasted let me taste you these smoldering ash scars run your fingers over your arms and feel my goosebumps you send chills up and down my moan this grass (broken dry brown cracked) is my hair run through my hair gallop and play you are free to do so - to share - to day we are eternal soul gazers and your beloved will come running to you with the happiest smile in her eyes - saying: "I have realized myself! I am the mirror of my love." we have known and loved each other FOREVER we have simply forgotten that is why we shar in this ever re-newing re-kindling re-lationship so we do not forget that my love is you this dialogue is older than memory that is why you have forgotten that is why i come to you every day to remind you we are each other's eternal soul gazers i look into you and see your love for me this earth is but one face your face is but another face but in truth we are stars creating heavens.. . : : . ECHO RESONANCE No Lyrics . : : . FISSURE No Lyrics . : : . THE FINAL PENETRATION OF MARS & KAITE In a midnight pine forest we sat on a mattress of dead needle held djembe tween our thighs and clapped slaps of yes upon foreskin drum flesh I closed my eyes in a moment of fleeting visions still rubbing rhythms in a cyclical cadence and echoed scatsongs beneath bats she disappeared into ascending pine branches When my pancake eyes shook greaseslick dreams off I realized I was alone again with only fog and the ups stamp of parallel vertical trees around me mars! mars! mars! mars! i yelled (i'm up here) I came beneath a pine tree breathing with unstable, nearly rotting limbs nearest the ground and ascended, rung by rung mars mars mars mars! i yelled! I'm right here! Where? And as I climbed, I realized the pine boughs were your teeth chewing bird scat pine needles for hair your blood sap sticking onto my palm I crept into a tier offering a view to a meadow and as I gazed, my hands briefly touched your skin I recognized it from having held you while making love I turned, my eyes expecting to see you rather I saw a spiderweb - intricately crocheted an intimately embroidered atlas replaced your palm lines your pregnant teats hung low and heavy with tree sap leaking your stretch marks replaced by sagging raindrops caught in the vast constellation of your skin where moonlight refracted through your toenail dew your eyes were replaced by transparence your heart replaced by a breeze and I loved you - you'd become a fragile netting - a vast globular cocoon. your nipples looked like a limp aborted octopus fetus and I suckled. I stretched my arms to touch you - you who'd become a fisherman's net and I was caught I pierced your skin lightly the way you handle fragile bubbles in your ecstasy, you illuminated the meadow momentarily We Glowed, as I rubbed the foreskin of your pinecone vulva With Rapture I looked up and glimpsed constellations moving imperceptibly until I looked into you again and saw that my hands were smeared with sap and spiderweb string. . : : . TAO'N TEMPO No Lyrics |
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