Is everybody in?
Is everybody in?
Is everybody in?
The ceremony is about to begin.

WAKE UP!

You can't remember where it was
had this dream stopped?

Awake

Shake dreams from your hair
My pretty child, my sweet one.
Choose the day and choose the sign of your day
The day's divinity
First thing you see.

A vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon
Couples naked race down by it's quiet side
And we laugh like soft, mad children
Smug in the wooly cotton brains of infancy
The music and voices are all around us.
Choose they croon the Ancient Ones
The time has come again
Choose now, they croon
Beneath the moon
Beside an ancient lake
Enter again the sweet forest
Enter the hot dream
Come with us
Everything is broken up and dances.

gently they stir, gently rise
The dead are newborn awakening
With ravaged limbs and wet souls
Gently they sigh in rapt funeral amazement
Who called these dead to dance?
Was it the young woman learning to play the ghost song on her baby grand?
Was it the wilderness children?
Was it the ghost god himself, stuttering, cheering, chatting blindly?
I called you up to anoint the earth
I called you to announce sadness falling like burned skin
I called you to wish you well
To glory in self like a new monster
And now I call you to pray

I'll tell you this...
No eternal reward will forgive us now
For wasting the dawn.

Back in those days everything was simpler and more confused
One summer night, going to the pier
I ran into two young girls
The blonde one was called Freedom
The dark one, Enterprise
We talked and they told me this story
Now listen to this...
I'll tell you about Texas radio and the big beat
Soft driven, slow and mad
Like some new language
Reaching your head with the cold, sudden fury of a divine messenger
Let me tell you about heartache and the loss of god
Wandering, wandering in hopless night
Out here in the perimeter there are no stars

Out here we is stoned
Immaculate.

I see above a glimpse of the true shamanic nature of the breaking through my stolen virginity by this cruel mother under the moon... Shivers... Pain... Shame... Love hurted on the deepest insides of my heart... The natural course of nature interrupted three times for the opening of the eyes of the new-born Warrior... A difficult, mortal birthing... All this pain was really necessary, dark mother? Or it was your intention to make him ready for a mission yet to come, to make him feed this much in hatred on the very night he opened his eyes? And why should my deep love serve as the graal from where he should drink his revelations in my pain?