1. |
The Mists of Algiers
05:50
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THE MISTS OF ALGIERS
Are you still standing, you who were chosen? / I’m told you never once flinched when they bid you drink the potion, / that you moved like a Goddess through those temporal explosions / and your Dance was exquisite – every reckless motion / Fall down before her, down on your knees / Lay low your offering of bakhoor & lilies / Show her your breastplate, the holes made by spears, but don’t raise your gaze on the Mists of Algiers / How precious your eyelids, tattooed in kohl – Forged where the voice rings the smoldering soul. / I have faith that you’ll transcend the poison in your bowl / And rise above all you’ve seen down in that hole. /…The phases of the moon move through the spheres / Don’t raise your gaze on the silhouettes of Algiers / All I thought I was & all I thought I knew / Now turns to ash & dust – it’s never felt so true / And the amrit floods the tongue, washes down over my chest / I’ve come through the furnace untouched, and passed the test /…humble your gaze on the Mists of Algiers.
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2. |
Ancient Chains
04:22
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ANCIENT CHAINS
Don’t show me your false king, your tabernacle, your religion / Don’t show me your wedding ring or your much-applauded vision / Don’t show me your veil of tears or the horses that you stole – Reveal to me your Mystery; I wanna see your Soul!/ Oh! Let us break these Ancient Chains! / Don’t show me your master’s house; don’t show me your silver tongue / Don’t show me your silken blouse or the medals that you’ve won / Don’t show me your dwelling place; if it’s a palace or some black hole / Reveal to me your Mystery; I wanna see your Soul!/ Don’t show me your unfurled flag, materialistic pride / Don’t show me your burning rags or the blinders on your eyes / Don’t show me your password, decoder ring, manifesto - Reveal to me your Mystery; I wanna see your Soul!/ Don’t show me your chosen one, your existential angst / Don’t show me your father’s gun, his armies & his banks / Don’t show me your cryptic plans, apocrypha & scrolls – All I wanna see’s your Mystery; I wanna climb inside your Soul! / Don’t show me your Don Juan, Mata Hare, Hollywood / Don’t show me the empty hall where once your heroes stood / Don’t show me some false paradise or the Way of a Thousand Holes / Reveal to me your Mystery; I wanna see your Soul!/ Don’t show me your secret map or your photogenic past / Don’t show me your lashed back with its bureaucratic dance / Don’t show me your credit card, relics, bones & hidden gold / Open to me your Mystery; Open up to me your Soul!...
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3. |
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THE LAST ILLUMINATION (The Ghost of Arthur Rimbaud)
The coronets are raised, echo on the Pantheon walls / The strange world is praised in the clarion call / The Queen ascends her throne as you reach for the Unknown / And all the stars dissolve on your tongue / Who stole this Heart? Who tore it from its home? / There in the Shadows of the Last Illumination / Stands the Ghost of Arthur Rimbaud / The women with their garlands sing Priez Pour Lui / Mourning from Charleville to Marseilles / He longed to be free, to be one with the Sea / But in Cours d’ Orleans they forged his chains / The dancers astound us, blossoms in their hair / Delirium surrounds us, the Abyssinian air / The broken are endowed with will, the vile are made fair / The empty of heart are filled and the thieves offer their share / My father & mother were holy & wild / They slept beside the fire & on the ground they bore this child / I was nursed on the Legends, the mandolin & horn / Never kneeled to nothing save the Inconceivable Form…
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4. |
The White Peacock Cries
05:25
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THE WHITE PEACOCK CRIES
I arrived in moonlight from Macedonia, maybe a thousand years ago – who’s to say? / I wove sheep’s wool for the tribes of Anatolia / Still my chest lies open to the ice & the rain / We dined on carob & figs ‘neath the poplars – spanakopita, rice & great rounds of cheese / You can purchase Paradise, they said, for a few drachmas – But I’ll barter entry on the price of my dreams / Behind each tender, sentient creature / We encounter in that old olive grove / Where the moonlight grows white on those features / A secret is hidden deep beneath the soul / What can be said of misfortune’s strengthening riches? / My moustache drenched in dark wine & tears / The Heart torn & sewn up with stitches / Left to exile on the lonely road to Algiers / And the fires are set in the bloodstream / And the voices knot up deep in the chest / For those giants from the sea and those holy libertines / Let us suckle now at the Great Mother’s universal breast / Behind each tender, sentient creature / We encounter in that old olive grove / Where the moonlight grows white on those features / Within all matter some story longs to be told / Like an Amazon she rises from the ocean / Foam like white skirts hiked high on her thighs / She sways, gleaming, with the most graceful motions / The moon pours down like milk as the white peacock cries / We think we know the tale, the old story / At every turn we bellow it out loud / I want a deathless form of poetry / Unwound & unveiled of its sorrowful shroud…
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5. |
My Crooked Trumpet
06:15
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MY CROOKED TRUMPET
My dear anchorites of sorrow, my anchorites of grief / I offer yet another song to tear apart with your teeth / I’ll lay it on your altar, I’ll nail it to your door / Are you there, are you listening, are you keeping score? / I raise my Crooked Trumpet as Civilization burns / And I’ll gather all the ashes & seal them in this urn / I raise my Crooked Trumpet to the tortured & the blest / Like some most demented hero – I bow & strike my chest / O they found me in the mansions of those Andalusian kings / Bound up in fear & passions & other useless things / And there before the High Court, I told them stories of your Grace, your Beauty & your Wonder / There was not a dry eye left in the place! / I laid down with Sophia Loren, and Brigitte Bardot too / Check your calendars, my friends, I might have even laid down with you / I appreciate the affection, present in that boogaloo / But somehow I’m still in that Coliseum tonight, blowin’ this horn ‘til I’m blue! / Abandon your false credentials, my friends, abandon your synthetic hope / Don’t try to wash that stain from your hands, you’ll never find that much soap / Don’t blame some distant “other” for the blood upon this ground / Don’t kid yourself, brother – There’s enough blood to go around… / I do not presume to teach or instruct here, Nor to light your way with some kind of torch / What I offer, I offer from worker to worker – a gift between the burned & the scorched…
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6. |
Make For Me a Mask
04:28
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MAKE FOR ME A MASK
Make for me a Mask, one of camphorwood & jade / The kind that might be cast to take the breath away / Make for me a Mask to conceal these scars I wear / To incinerate the past and avert the cruel stare / I said Make for me a Mask / Cover this anomaly / Descend unto this task / Obscure this vague monstrosity / Make for me a Mask of that strange Victorian kind / One that makes the witness dance, or weep or want to go blind / Make for me a Mask that makes the people strong / That shows them how to survive on nothing but a song / I said Make for me a Mask to conceal me from the Law / To annihilate the past, make it from a jackal’s jaw! / Make for me a Mask – I beg your mythic intercession / Lock away my face at last against the world’s transgressions / Make for me a Mask – to hide me from their eyes / I’ll wear it when I fast for you & dance the Fool’s Surprise / I said Make for me a Mask, inscribed, encrypted and rough / Lead me from this path, have I yet done enough? / …I went alone to the misty garden, to the place where I often ask / Upon the waters, I heard her tender Voice / “It is not for you to wear the Mask…”
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7. |
The Waters Rise
05:53
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THE WATERS RISE
Somebody cold & cruel had littered the landscape / Streets all strewn with bruised, embittered hearts / Somebody broke the rules with a vicious handshake / Dreams ruined with a fuse & a single spark / Lies were sold by bankers / slyly told by kings / Traded brazenly by corporate spies / Somebody cold & cruel had littered the landscape – It’s no surprise, the waters rise / Look at ‘em – broken, abused, bleedin’ & battered – Marooned on the corner of Greed & Denial / Like they never counted, they never even once mattered / On that street where the poor are decried & defiled / But you, you don’t pay taxes, you hide it all offshore / Brandishing your axes & taking out lives / Look at ‘em – broken, abused, bleedin’ & battered – It’s no surprise, the waters rise / Pontchartrain, San Juan or Canal – Oh, you won’t look anyhow / Your hired liars got the press all choked & cloned / The only “jobs” you create make kids into uniformed killers far away / Then you throw ‘em to the dogs in the street like mutilated bones / The Fahrenheit of the seas, climbin’ by alarmin’ degrees / Bodies’ll float in the subways, above Wall Street ominous skies / Pontchartrain, San Juan or Canal – Oh, you won’t look anyhow / It’s no surprise, the waters rise / A mother wailed just like some wounded animal / Bound her babe high upon a telephone pole / Fell into silence as the swirling tomb surrounded her / Kept her eye on the child as she, herself, was swallowed whole / D.C. was silent, blind – no orders given or signed / As if no one’d notice or be more the wise / But a mother wailed just like some wounded animal… / It’s no surprise, the waters rise…
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8. |
The Knot of the Heart
05:19
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THE KNOT OF THE HEART
Nineveh & Babylon, Knossos & Thebes / I even bled for you among the Byzantines / Life after life, dream after dream – How is it these eyes still can’t see? / Take wing, banish tears / Light the torch, confound the seers / This gate opens only once every hundred years / Unbind the Knot of the Heart, Unwind the Knot of the Heart… / I was left blind by the caravans / Still I sang your song, I did your dance / And I awoke to these alien tattoos on my hands / Jade earrings, bangled beads / Your bronze bracelets all agleam / Like silver stars on a mirrored sea – Lay down with me / These bodies arise, walk through dreams / So many claim that they know what it means! / I came here for Love, to bear those beams– Bow down with me …
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9. |
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BOUGHT THIS SHIRT IN PARIS (VERSION TWO)
I bought this Shirt in Paris / On the old Champs-Elysees / From a guy with one arm / Wearing a navy blue beret / I give the man a dollar / & he danced with some wild poodle dogs / Then I put this Shirt on my naked back / & went to see Mildred & Maude / I showed my Shirt to Mildred / I showed my Shirt to Maude / I showed my Shirt to an old blind cow / Down where they keep the hogs / Soon everyone was speaking in tongues / And bitin’ poison snakes clean through / In this modern complex society / There’s no end to what a new Shirt can do / I took my Shirt to a mental place & fixed a broken man’s head / Then me & my Shirt went down to the morgue & raised some people from the dead / Fed the poor, fixed the garage door / & made everybody good in bed / Then we all went down to Albert Camus’ house, before the Plague arrived, you know, & then we just fled / Now, I wasn’t born for tinsel town awards / Nor to compete with strangers or peers / I wasn’t born to dazzle the hordes – They’d cannibalize my Shirt with their leers / Who are these so-called “judges” with their cellophane titles? / I have no use for show-biz sneers / nor their ‘murican Idols…
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10. |
The Sentinel Waits
03:20
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THE SENTINEL WAITS
Black crows & roans come out of the West / To drink from the Rose that glows in the chest / But he won’t make his slumber; he’ll not bow to rest / Outside those most ancient gates / In silence the Sentinel waits / Malachite eyes in a dolorous gaze / Stare past the world’s labyrinthine maze / They’ve seen kingdoms rise up & empires razed; / Love torn from the hands of the Fates / In silence the Sentinel waits / All your pleasure & pain, your loss & your gain – A thousand cities burn down / All your praise & your blame, your disgrace & your fame – Throw your scepter to the ground / And walk away from that crown…/ Black crows & roans arrive in the night / To drink of the Rose that grows from his side / And he offers his mouth that its song might suffice / To open those most ancient gates / In silence the Sentinel waits / Arise, arise, dear maiden, from sleep / The Sentinel watches from his stony keep / The roots grow upon him & curl ‘bout his feet / He longs to be seen – his True Face / In silence the Sentinel waits…
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11. |
Kneel, Conquistador
04:39
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KNEEL, CONQUISTADOR
Kneel, Conquistador, let the flames rise up from your Heart! / There is nothing to conquer here on this charnel ground floor / Kneel, Conquistador, let the flames rise up from your Heart! / That sword cannot serve you anymore / They bound you in irons and fed you on glory / You were just a boy, where have we heard this story? (Shame! Mortal chains!) / They conscripted the poor, smeared blood on your door / Promised you gold & slaves & more. (Shame! Mortal chains!) / They sent you away from Valencia’s shores / Said, “Kill everything that we deplore!” (Shame! Mortal chains!) / So you followed the rules, you obeyed their orders / And the innocent were drawn & quartered. (Shame! Mortal chains!) / Why are you killin’ for what do you die? / Merchants & brokers pile skulls on high (Shame! Mortal chains!) / While back at the palace the profits rise / They don’t care ‘bout the ghosts in your eyes. (Shame! Mortal chains!) / Where are the Elders? Where are the Kings? / Where are the ones who’re supposed to teach you ‘bout these things? (Shame! Mortal chains!) / They’re kissing the ring on some Inquisitor’s hand / They don’t give a damn whether you fall or stand (Shame! Mortal chains!) / There’s blood on your face, there’s blood on your hands / There’s blood all over that ancient land. (Shame! Mortal chains!) / Throw down your sword & lift up your soul – It’s not too late to rise up & say No! / … It is only yourself you must conquer here at last /…This sword cannot serve you, it never has…
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12. |
I Will Bend
05:41
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I WILL BEND
In the silence before dawn, where the angels make their stand / I lie in wait & long for your hand / In the House of Humility, such a poor servant am I / But for thee, I will bend / And if these hands will serve, let them serve / If this heart should break or mend / And if this mouth might sing, let it sing – For thee I will bend / I will bend to thee, I will bend to thee / If it pleases thee, I will bend / I will bend to thee, I will bend to thee / If it pleases thee, I will bend / Strip me of all arrogance, take from me this cloak / That conceals the perfect innocence of which the Ancients spoke / I will kneel if it pleases thee, or as easily shed this yoke / I will bend to thee, I will bend / Restore me to that Essence from which I have come / O, that I & the Beloved are One / And if I am water, let me fall on thee / And where I am flame, burn me totally / And where I am ether, let me enter thy mouth / I will bend to thee, I will bend / And if…For thee I will bend…
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13. |
The Lost Song
04:18
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THE LOST SONG
The trees in this place seem ominous – Neither beech wood, elm nor larch / Each wand’rer I meet in these eternal streets / Seems to be on some endless death march / I sing out your name, wait for echoes, refrains / They crash on my lips, broken & split / What kinda world did I step into / The night I departed your ship? / O, I rolled ‘cross the face of those waters / For what seemed like one hundred years – Wrecked on those shores, dragged ‘cross the moors / A thousand miles from the comfort of my peers / Somewhere on my bones or underneath the stones / They carved a map in some secret script / What kinda world did I bleed into / The night I stepped off your ship? / With these ears I’ve heard / Madrigals, jigs & concertos / Chants of praise from Phoenicians & Turks / But those sails were unfurled / And I was thrown from this world / It’s your Lost Song they blessed & they cursed / And I’m stranded for better or worse / It’s that Lost Song they blessed & they cursed…/ There are monsters that call forth my agonies / Monsters of gross misbelief / They groan & they gasp on the perilous path / And make claims on the songs ‘neath my teeth / O, I’m sinking & I’m caught in this whirlpool of thoughts / Of you stepping out of your slip / Into what kinda mad realm did I fall from the helm / The night I fell from your ship?
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14. |
Plague in the City
06:27
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PLAGUE IN THE CITY
He was a thief, they punished him for stealing – In the tower’s shadow they cut off his hands / In the street a red-haired actress was acting & a vendor with black eyes sold blood oranges / The Daughters of Voodoo in their bright bandannas / Were casting lots in the dirt / And Mad Louisa at the gates of the market was pretending not to hear the soldier’s dirty words / Antelope priests circled the village led by the Bishop of Antioch / The Cup Bearer looked ill but nobody noticed as he took a sip from the golden cup / “Papa, don’t go!” shouted the orphan girl as she spotted a man on a gray dapple mare / But he didn’t hear her, he had his mind on the world / He was going to buy some hunting dogs at the fair / There’s a Plague in the City / I hear the sound of bells in the streets / This is no place for Gypsies / Make haste my Love – Let us flee! / There was a young minstrel with a voice like honey / On the cathedral stairs he was eating some fruit / When a Japanese woman came by in a buggy / She said, “O-Momo, May I play your ivory flute?” / The Spaniard laughed three times, gave his horse to the squire / He took off his armor & threw it to the street / He was still laughing when he put his sword to the blacksmith’s fire / And he pointed to the punctured holes in his hands & feet / Snake Dancers at the Blue Flute Altar / Were feasting on squash & sweet melon / One of them claimed the Earth for the Creator / Her gaze was fixed on the flight of the snowy heron / “Papa, don’t go!” shouted the orphan girl / To a nervous man standing in front of the jail / He grasped the pentangle round his neck most desperately as he was tempted with still another mug of ale /...Three Mystical Sisters were bathing at the well / While white-haired monkeys ran circles in the dust / Valiant women all, their eyes burned of Wisdom / As they watched the monkeys spin like chariots / Night fell like a mantle on the towered city / Rumors of cannibalism spread through the dark / Slaves with burning torches set fire to the prison / For inside the Plague had left its merciless mark /…An angel with a twisted wing shouted a warning / His words like a trumpet blast loud & true / They took him alive & showed him no mercy / They live in the dark & know not what they do / The Mystical Sisters, unashamed & naked / drew magical pictures in the air / While the orphan girl went in search of the minstrel / She saw no one at the cathedral stairs /…“Papa, don’t go!” a third time she cried / To an African bard with a ring in his ear / As a woman in terror dove from a balcony / She couldn’t bear her reflection in the empty mirror / Stampeding horses ran through the temple / A phoenix flew over the dome / And a thief with no hands turned away in his agony / As an Egyptian slave set the torch to his home…
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15. |
All Will Be Revealed
05:24
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ALL WILL BE REVEALED
We were down in that cave underground / We were down where Odysseus went to drown / And we were there when Hanuman burned down that whole illusory town / Cryin’ out All Will Be Revealed! /…Remember when we gave up our place on that strange ark? / And the clowns around us just hissed & barked? / But one holy fool tore his chest & opened up his Heart /… Blows come, without warning, from behind – Your Soul is dragged through the mud! / Only this morning you lost your mind – Was that some kind of sign? / We carried that nameless soldier’s broken corpse / And tied him upright on his pathetic horse / The corpse began to weep / And the horse began to speak /…Maria Magdalena, of whom the enlightened Coptics boast / Walked barefoot & mute, on thorns, from coast to coast / Singin’ my songs & bearin’ my post / For all of those acolytes, devas & ghosts / Singin’ out, All Will Be Revealed...
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John Terlazzo & Voices in the Hall York, Pennsylvania
Voices In The Hall: Songwriter / Poet John Terlazzo on vocals, guitar, Indian harmonium, Kristina Machusick on vocals,
flute, recorders & Paul Wegmann on vocals, lead guitars. Together
they have become one moving, breathing creature, offering up a rich array of "Modern Surrealist Gypsy Folk", & described as "Marc Chagall gone aural" and "Leonard Cohen meets Rumi".
... more
Contact John Terlazzo & Voices in the Hall
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