1. |
Nature's Retribution
03:29
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As gloamings gathered on dark velvety pads,
I saw a murder, and the culprits were crows.
They gathered in the branches of a dead oak tree,
bristling with intent.
Poor man, it was his time to repent.
They gouged out his eyes to access his brain,
They pecked through the portals and consumed his consciousness.
The crows picked over the bones then paused to look at me,
and flew up to their roost in a dead oak tree.
A lone magpie caught my eye and beckoned to the sky,
Nature's retribution, The day of reckoning is nigh.
As gloamings gathered on dark velvety pads,
I saw a murder, and the culprits were crows.
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2. |
The Wheel Of The Year
03:58
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As the old year is finished,
before a new one begins,
there's a point in the spiral
where the veil grows thin.
I feel now their presence
amongst us again.
For the departed,
I tip my glass to the flames.
And every end's a new beginning
though it's hard to say goodbye.
Every exit's just an entrance
to the other side.
And everything that holds us here
to the fire must be consigned,
before our journey through the darkness
back to summertime.
The days now grow colder.
Leaves fall from the trees
Our memories are older,
a future harder to see.
And our thoughts turn inwards,
now the dark time is here,
to the path that we've travelled
around the wheel of the year.
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3. |
Up On The Hill
03:27
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Back up on the hill where the long barrows lay,
ancients murmur to me and guide me on my way
to a place I belong, a place I long to be.
Down to the meadows where the larks they rise.
Butterflies flit over scabious ‘neath shimmering skies.
I feel my journey has ended. My journey has just begun.
Beneath my feet I feel the worms a-turning.
Deep down I feel a sense of yearning
to join them in her embrace.
The magic lies deep within me and without me.
I am complete, I am free.
Dark woods draw me in, tendrils creep under my skin.
Deathcap longs to crown me but I feel no fear.
Trees guide me back to the light, back up on to the hill.
Back up on the hill, where the long barrows lay,
ancients murmur to me, and guide me on my way,
to a place I belong, a place I long to be.
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4. |
The Dance
03:55
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Dance, the dance goes on,
dance through the night, dance to the dawn,
through the daylight, when evening comes,
the dance goes on.
Dance, the dance goes on,
dance of the Earth, the Moon and the Sun,
winter and spring, summer, autumn,
the dance goes on.
For the dance that we dance is the dance of all life,
to which all existence can't help but be tied.
Through time and through space,
to be here right now, to be at this place.
And in time, the moment dissolves,
the dance spirals on, the cycle revolves.
And if it seems it's all gone wrong,
just remember the dance goes on.
If you feel that you don't belong,
just remember the dance goes on.
If you're fearful of what's to come,
just remember the dance goes on...
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5. |
Beautiful End To The Day
04:40
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A day for lone magpies, and murders of crows.
As dogs bay, the air smells of distant fires and decay.
To the ancient white way, I make, along the rutted road I snake,
Up on to the hill, where the long barrows lay.
It’s difficult to sense her presence on a cold winter's day,
In the grey, obscure light I continue my plight.
Onward to the moon coloured cliffs where the sea meets the sky,
I can see why it’s such a popular place to die.
To be, or not to be notions flow, to the rocks and the water below.
But this is no date with fate. No, it can damn well wait.
To the west a chasm of light, blood orange, purple bright.
A pair of herring gulls soar, clattering jackdaws they caw.
Back along the ancient white way, splitting the grey as dusk falls.
I can feel her with me, as the blackbirds call.
Bob Robins, my sentinels on my journey home.
Twinkling infinity above, rose hips blush.
She was always with me, but why didn't she say?
It's a beautiful end to the day.
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6. |
The Hallowed Glade
04:32
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The Starlings murmered to me, Sheeprack, Starn, Stare,
wordless amorphic eloquence, in the dusky night air.
A Wood Pigeon flapped, Clatter Dove, Cushie Doe,
as spattered The Chatter Pie, in my mind's eye.
We are one, we are bound,
by revelations: troubling, beautiful and profound.
In hawthorn and field maple Hedge Spadgers flitted and gabed,
and beckoned follow us, to The Hallowed Glade.
Along ancient highways, lost sunken lanes,
forgotten, hedge fringed byways, Shufflewing, Our Lady's Hen.
Throstle and Black Uzzle, darted across my dream,
mellifluous melody, requiem, and eulogy.
Jay: Devil's Snitch, Flesh Crows, Jack Caddaws,
in the oak trees, sat high and cawed.
Up ahead in the distance, I saw The Fox my majestic beast,
who will, in time, on my dead flesh feast.
Over brook and stream, Fisher King, Lamprey replete,
I sensed my journey was ended, and almost complete.
Reliable Bob Robin, always near and dear,
Barn Owl quartered, there was nothing to fear.
To a glade, where an ancient yew tree stands,
our longed for hallowed place, I fall into her woody embrace.
Her roots drew me down, to a place, a place I belonged
A place I belonged and longed to be.
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7. |
Wild Places
02:46
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Across the urban skyline, see the tops of the trees.
They’re still the forest of ancient time.
We’ve just built in-between
Every crack in the pavement that gets a glimmer of light,
every scrap of land that’s vacant is teeming with life.
Seek out the wild places.
Take a moment to see
the dark heart and the liminal spaces
on the edge of rationality.
Where reason unravels
meaning is concealed.
Spend some time down the road less travelled.
All may be revealed.
Turn your face to the seashore.
Scan the far horizon.
Look out as far as you can see for,
where the sky meets the ocean.
At the edge of consciousness,
in your peripheral vision,
a mindset uncharted yet
of archetypes and intuition.
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8. |
The Fox
03:15
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As I walked along the lane,
from the corner of my eye I saw the fox again.
Sat watching me, as he always has,
and will until my time is spent.
His presence used to bother me.
His reputation, undeserved.
I thought he was of malign intent,
but slowly realised, he was content,
to watch me from a distance.
He visits me in my dreams,
once nightmares, when I was naïve.
As he would consume me,
and I would pass through him,
to the woods on the other side.
But now I realise, his intentions were benign.
As he looks over me, and will in time,
dine on my dead flesh, and swallow me down,
through the passages of my majestic beast.
To the woods on the other side,
where in the trees and the leaves I will be free.
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9. |
Sense Of Place
03:08
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Under the parish lantern
of the city’s neon glow,
labyrinthine scattered patterns
of the traffic’s ebb and flow.
You can’t erase the sense of place…
Away from straight line motorways,
the scars of high speed trains,
serpentine ways of bygone days
weave through the terrain.
You can’t erase the sense of place…
The city casts a shadow.
Glass shards pierce the sky.
Shoreline winding far below,
the river meanders by.
You can’t erase the sense of place…
Amidst chambered tombs and tumuli,
on the heath a circle stands,
stones aligned to the shifting skies
but rooted in this land.
You can’t erase the sense of place…
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10. |
Sacred Spring
04:51
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The Old Man of the hill led me to a sacred spring.
Bourne, life giver,
with liberty's magic, carry me to the river.
By chalk clear water I travel, as reality and time unravel.
Shrouded in water, face to the sky,
crack willow, alder glide by.
Brook trout, chevin, dace. Across my dream they chase.
Water nymphs hatch myriad kind,
Reflections dapple across my mind.
As liberty's magic releases its gentle grip,
a tragic reality hits.
The stream is now a dead ratty ditch,
an urban, subversive itch,
for rain, and our effluent, and detritus to drain.
Under road and street,
boxed, concealed, defiled, denied.
As grief drips from my face,
lugubrious drops linger and trace,
pendulously hang, and ponderously they break.
We are the earth, we are the trees,
we are the rivers and the seas.
I am you, you are me,
and everything and nothing.
Forever and a while…
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11. |
Fires Of Beltane
02:42
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I'm the spirit of the wild wood. Lover of the Forest Queen.
The ribboned pole thrust in the damp earth, I am Jack-in-the-Green.
Year King, Earth Mother, hand in hand we jump the flames.
Heading for the fruits of summer, through the fires of Beltane.
Meet my lady in the greenwood. Garland her with sprigs of may
We lie together in the moonlight, bathed in dew at break of day.
Pour the waters of inspiration on the stone to manifest
all your dreams and your ambitions. May every scheme be blessed.
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12. |
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We are, are we? Two are we one?
One are we two? The circle is profound.
Round is the whole, Complete. Replete.
Deletion is inevitable and can be delectable.
Part of the cycle, midnight of the dial.
Destiny for us all. Try not to fear but enthral.
Fear numbs and stops us seeing the truth.
No choice we are one, one together.
Nothing alone. However we strive
No one's getting out of here alive.
Let's float up, away and beyond.
We can fly, we can see
The simple truth that lies in between
Where it begins and ends, it ends and begins.
We are we. Are we?
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Gripper Lee 3 Bexhill, UK
Quirky alternative art rockers with pagan folk and blues influences, whose witty lyrics offer a wry look at life and death and the cycles of nature. Old enough to know better, but daft enough to do it anyway, this oddball outfit from East Sussex (UK) play edgy and eclectic original material in their own unique style. ... more
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