we adjourn to some white room
life flashes past lightspeed
(note to performers : should be done fast)
a child in mine own image
electronic symphonia
the elegaic sweep of sand n strings
the drums sombre rattle
the mournful echoes of the french horn
the women sing of fire
the men sing of ash
the world cant listen anymore
winter sunlight bleaches everything dazzling titanium
the old snake in eden would have loved the sun today
he coils around liliths black waist
he probes the air with his forked quickened tongue
he sizzles in the lovely light
in his dreams where he strangles the world
in his scales complex patterns
in his liquid eyes of evil
winter mr winter old man winter
the lion in winter
mangy moses in white hippy winter
father what is that thou holdeth?
ah childe, surely it bee the mirror of winter….
then the music stops
the ears ring on n on
listening to something from twenty years ago
now a constant electrick whine
all i have is that sunshine for now
a late burst on some winters day
falling straight into spring soon
the apple blossom in eden is lovely this time of year
maybe i am one spell away from real magic
maybe i am one asana away from real yoga
maybe i am one mile away
barque up the wrong tree
like alfred the great in the olden days
c’mon wessex !
england all ways on my mind
can we still be reconciled…?
the moors
the restaurants
the rainy streets of cambridge and sheffield
the leylines and stoned henge
how distant they seem in the colonies
in these antipodes like the south icy pole
in these obvious ends of the earth
some bizarre outpost i got exiled in
pretend and temporary cities in some old lords imagination
complete with freakish animals and hidden monsters
we look into the mirror of winter
scarlet kilbey her life all before her
me…..
maybe im one life away from you
maybe im sitting here in the sun
like in the ice of the pool
my mind goes pleasantly blank
the winter of mirror
the fleeting sun
as darkness gathers on one side
the clouds like little flocks of wandering sheepies
the moon appears like a white hole in the sky
what do you see in the winter mirror, old man?
i see that everything is how its s’posed to be
and that at the heart of everything
is something
called
nothing