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1. |
Psalm I (One Good Eye)
16:39
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My one good eye sees the world through a mist.
My one good eye sees the sorrow and bliss
Of men and birds - of birds and men.
My one good eye can’t read the lines,
But my one good eye can see the signs
In the fiery sky where moths do fly.
Men call me blind but I can see -
There are certain things that appear to me,
Like the flame and the spark and the Red Hand Mark
And the bloody moon which falls too soon;
And the red morning which shows warning
By tooth and beak and lightning streak.
My one good eye sleepless stirs
Upon the end of men and birds,
But it dreams of war and the Horsemen Four.
My one good eye can’t aim the arrow,
But my one good eye can see the point.
Baptize with blood, anoint the mud.
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2. |
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See the rain is blood
It runs in red rivers;
Beneath a moon of blood,
False prophets shiver.
They heave just like the earth
Which churns beneath their feet;
And scream in confused fear
When their broken gods they meet.
And though the sights are plain,
They will not see them.
And when the signs prove true,
They will not heed them.
It’s blind step after step on dead flat-worn paths
Waiting for an end which has already passed.
Have no fear,
The end’s not near.
It’s already here.
It’s already past.
To wilderness
Our Lady’s fled -
Now life is death
And first is last.
The Beast has heaved;
Its heart now cleaved;
Its venom seethed
Upon the earth.
The hordes have swarmed,
Raged and stormed,
As we were warned
From day of birth.
The keys are broken;
The locks all open;
The chains have fallen
Onto poison ground.
The binding is split;
The cover ripped;
The book is lost -
It won’t be found.
The Horsemen fled,
For Death is dead
And War is red
With mortal wounds.
The horse meat is carved,
But Famine is starved.
Disease lies sick
And will pass soon.
The end of the end
Has played its hand
And here we stand
holding the deck.
Fear no more
The Horsemen Four -
They’ve settled the score
And paid their debts.
Have no fear,
The end’s not near -
It’s long been here
And now it’s passed.
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3. |
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Let electric ghosts no longer haunt the skies.
Let electric scenes no longer blur your eyes.
No more are the stars hidden by electric lights.
No electric dreams to cloud our seeking minds.
The rust is red
Like blood is red
And, ember red,
The fires die.
The smoke is black
Like crows are black
And from black clouds
They cry.
The world is cracked
Like bones are cracked
And with cracked minds
We moan.
With broken wings,
And broken dreams,
And broken things,
We roam.
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4. |
Psalm IV (Mother Rust)
20:08
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part one:
Mother Rust, here at the end of time
There's beauty in the decline,
For still your heart does shine.
Mother Rust, we failed and the we fell;
Poisoned the holy well.
We've made our very own Hell.
Pray for us Mother Rust!
Mother Rust, the Horsemen have now fled -
And what have they left?
Only fear and death.
Mother Rust, you are all I see -
All that is left for me -
At the end of everything.
Pray for us Mother Rust!
Mother Rust, the towers tumble down
Like lightning struck to ground.
In the rubble we found Mother Rust.
Mother Rust, in the Chapel of Ash;
In the Shrine of the Last;
In the Church of the Passed;
Pray for us Mother Rust!
Mother Rust, your hymns I will sing
Beneath the broken wings
Of every fallen thing.
Mother Rust, the rain it burns my eyes,
And through the tears I cry
I see you in the sky.
Pray for me Mother Rust!
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5. |
Within the Falling Sands
01:55
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When it's down to bones;
When it's down to bones and teeth;
When it's all we have;
When it's all that we can see;
That's when we'll remember love;
That's when you'll remember me;
That's when we will have to choose;
That's when I'll remember you.
When it's down to leaves;
When it's down to leaves and tea;
When they're all that's left;
When they're all there is to read;
There within the falling sands -
That is where you'll call to me;
There within the fading view -
That is where I'll call to you.
When I'm down to bones;
When I'm down to bones and teeth;
Perhaps a song you'll sing -
When that's all that's left of me.
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Stone Breath Red Lion, Pennsylvania
Stone Breath is not new. It is cracked. Broken. Imperfect. Hidden. Weathered by the seasons.
We sing of ghosts and of forgotten paths through forest and fallow field.
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