1. |
Gaia
03:24
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If we turn from Life, we have only Death.
From the minute we humans started building fires to cook our food,
we have been aware that we must revere the source of our lives
and all life on this planet.
And we have named that source
"Mother of Life".
She is kind, sometimes cruel,
always indifferent to sacrifice
exept for those
who came in their time -
fertility rites,
the celebration of birth,
of the new year,
thanks for the harvest.
But she is capricious and aloof.
Her manifestations:
Serene, Ferocious, Willful,
Cruel, Wise, Lustful, Mysterious,
Wanton, Loyal, Scheming,
Jealous, Cool, Greedy, Dreaming.
She responds to arrogance
by witholding her favors and
sometimes by destruction.
Her weapons are overwhelming,
myriad, awesome: Winds, Water,
Lightning, Fire, Ice, Heat,
Earthquake and Tidalwave.
If we worship and revere
male gods, we ignore
Gaia's ultimate power over us.
Turn from the Goddess of Life,
and there is only Death.
Turn form the Mother of Life,
and there is only Death.
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2. |
I Am Warrior
03:30
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3. |
Fell To Regret
05:10
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Is this a new Dark Age?
Are these the blackest days?
All fell to regret.
Do you have nothing to say?
While they ignore the Modern Slave?
All fell to regret.
Horror at the hands of elders breeds a new crop of monsters
The soulless profit-makers.
In the name of their Savior.
The Patriarch Conspiracy sold me off for pennies
All world religions united to keep the women obliging
Wondering the brothelways we scream through nights and sleep the daze
They cage us like tigers to use for their desires.
Sell and trade us like a drug that can be used again and again.
Predator trained as prey.
Socialized to be meek and obedient.
The anger in woman is dangerous.
Traditional Values, the modern passive Witch Hunt.
A fifties fabrication that never existed
Repressed Fundamentalist seeks a sicker decadence
Am I the mother of Harlots - the younger the better
Now self-esteemless Glamour tarts flaunt their sexuality
In the name of Girl Power,
They'll lose the fight forever.
Selling and trading themselves to the game again and again.
Is this a new Dark Age?
Are these the blackest days?
All fell to regret.
Is this a new Dark Age?
While they strip your freedoms away?
Had I been born in the wrong time
In the wrong place
My music would be dead
My words would fall mute
My art burned from my fingers
And I would have lived and died at the hands of scoundrels and idiots
How many like me are there
With spirits aflame like mine
Their hearts, their minds, their souls
Gone like a whisper in the storm.
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4. |
In Answer
07:52
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In Answer...
I'll speak the truth though it may be hard to hear it
That part of me, that lythe and fierce spirit
Made prisoner yet molded in my image
Choose, Fate, choose: Mother or Lover, Muse or Martyr
Tenderest to those who won't own me
Singing on for another generation
Traded for a life turned upside-down.
I can no longer be the captured Symbol
The personal Siren shining like freedom
Stalked by silent unforgiving reflections
Choose, Fate, choose: Lover or Martyr, Muse or Mother
My head full of heat from one hour's sleep
Lost in the shine of the moment.
In this moment - there is love,
And nothing but this moment matters.
And I touch all the eyes that know who I am and where we began.
Desiring to save, resigned to their delusions,
Attracting their secrets and deepest wishes,
Imagine the taste of a heart bled to dust.
Choose, Sister, choose: Mother or Lover, Muse or Martyr
Numb to talons in my creations
From which unknown imaginations
Expect the Song to be the Human.
I can no longer be the captured Symbol
Conjuring their embrace and feverish whispers
Repeating Youth's passions and locked-lust nightmares
Choose, Sister, choose: Mother or Martyr, Muse or Lover
My head full of heat from one hour's sleep.
Found in the shine of the moment.
In this moment - there is love,
And nothing but this moment matters.
As I take them all to a place where everything makes sense again.
----
And all those that agree.
And all those if they please.
Can bring themselves to love.
And lay their hands upon me.
And lay their hands upon me.
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5. |
Into My Own
06:38
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I'm not young
I'm not old
I've come into my own
I'm not old
I'm not young
I've come into my own
I have eyes beneath seduction,
A face that beckons shadows,
The moment sparks.
I cast my eyes inward and flow.
I've found my home.
The moment stops.
I cast my eyes inward and flow.
Take away the pen and the page.
Strip it down to just timber and stone
Something's coming our way.
I'm here in this world with you.
The moment sparks.
I cast my eyes inward and flow.
Take away the song and the stage
Strip it down to the hair and the bone
Something's coming our way.
I'm here in this world with you.
Something's coming our way.
Take away the song and the stage.
Rip away the pen from the page.
Tear down the stigma of age.
Something is coming our way
Take away the song and the stage.
Rip away the pen from the page.
Separate the art from the rage.
Something is coming our way
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6. |
The Antler King
01:50
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My Doom is that of the Antler King...
I will be born.
I will be nurtured.
I will be desired.
I will be defeated.
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7. |
Sedna
09:24
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From the corner of your eye, I may say I am with you.
Above the heads that look upward in disbelief.
I connect, disconnect, emote, reappear.
I don’t need to be known by the Universe.
I travel moment by moment - a star to every sky,
And We may answer any question put -
Like a vessel to the field of Knowledge
I was there and there
And now over here.
I was there and there
And now over here.
Pulsing in the heartbeats of populations
The fluttering of a thousand wings... The trampling of a thousand hoofbeats...
The turning of a thousand heads... The silky silence of flowing water...
Seamen may have heard until they turned their heads to look...
To see into the vast open endless answer.
I am with you.
I am with you.
What is it and why is it that this is what we all desperately need:
Home. A place to rest, lay down our head.
Not knowing why but promised some reward - in the end.
A strange Maternal process.
The spell is neither Word nor Deed alone, it merely is.
A strange Maternal process.
Tears hot on my cheeks know no limits of feeling or time,
The sirens gone and the rivers dried up.
The invention of gunpowder compressed -
Spark!
The silent feline not acknowledging the mirror.
A Fever -
Love.
Brightest when misunderstood.
The answer to a question felt but unheard.
Mother is the most important word.
Mother is the most important word.
Mother is the most important word.
Mother is the most important word.
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8. |
The Hunt
06:36
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The story is ancient...
I could speak of Love as if it had never before been discovered...
For to fall in love is to walk through a Golden Doorway
To see sights that were once listless and dull
Glow with Life.
To feel a Fire only known by those
New creatures at the next level of evolution...
Yet the story is ancient...
In every culture, there is the tale of a fabulous Creature
That disappears in forests,
And a Young Man hunts with an Aimless arrow, or spear, ...
A bird is then wounded -
Or a deer, wounded -
Or A tiger, shot with arrow and wounded -
And as he runs to wear he shot the creature,
Instead, there lies a woman...
And I lay there, my heart ripped open.
The Desperation!
The ability to suddenly forsake all earlier convictions -
To see now the meaninglessness of life's little demands -
To let go of physical need and cast off material comforts -
To be sick with Love, to shed a third, seventh, or ninth skin -
To awaken the Sleeper -
The creature within that rages each night
Separated from its glowing, raging source of life -
To love as such, to be sick with Love,
Its black clouds gripping the hills of the high deserts
Like a dragon breathing smoke and fire -
Some seek only this
And fall to a living death when it collapses.
Or is this is the intention?
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9. |
This is Not a Dream
01:27
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10. |
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You wish to speak with me
Tell me your dreams
Then strangle me with your bare hands
That consuming confession to the ultimate woman
Hidden in the hills and caverns
Her spirit kept within herself.
Mysteries within her that blind the killer.
Ha! Here I am!
Death is the Ultimate Woman
Show your most hidden face
Sleep wretched in her embrace
10 steps behind and eyes to the ground
Walks the ultimate woman
Lead her to your tiresome awkward secret desires
The idea of Her no woman can live up to.
Ask Her to forgive you.
Then let her bury you.
10 steps behind and eyes to the ground
True Mistress of the Elite Loser executioner.
The murderer ultimately belongs to Her.
10 steps behind and sinking within
Melts the ultimate woman
Her language murky, simmered - like a mirror image in black water
A secret tongue
A slur of laughter and knowing
Did you think you could simply hide her in forests?
In shallow graves?
Her body filled gloom-lit to feed the flimsy egos of men?
Treat her as flesh that could belong to a man?
Ha! Here I am!
You will die by her own Weakness
To keep you at her breast...
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11. |
The Turnaway
06:56
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I couldn't look to see her face
I dared not look - I just couldn't
But only rested my eyes on the shadow behind her as we made our way.
Sailors may have heard and turned their heads to look
At the vast open endless answer.
She says "I am with you."
Maybe that's true...
Two silhouettes on the sand, the sun shining brightly behind us.
It was morning
And with her heart she looked at me
It seemed she was about to speak of better times...
I dreamed she did speak to me, you see
Here I am and that's enough for now
Then the memory of her shadow turning
In tunnel vision like a silent home movie
Playing and repeating
Her shade spinning growing past her feminine shape -
A wave of hand on this rotation a quiet laugh on that
The profile for a moment, her shadow rising like a bird
Its wings stretching - the shape shifting - the tossing of her hair
Like a mare free and prancing
The moment played and replayed
While I stared transfixed dizzy
She flickered and I couldn' t remember exactly who she was or who she had been
I will see her again
This is what it's like when someone you love has gone
And you hope to see them in dreams
Though you never remember all you want to say...
It's always that way.
She said "I am with you."
That's enough for now.
I will see you again...
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12. |
A Good Thing
06:29
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There's something strange about you
But that's a good thing
What they don't know about you
I can see
And when no one is around
I know you're magic
You speak to animals
And they understand
I was you
I was there
It feels like lifetimes ago
When there was music in my head that no one else could hear
There's something strange about you
But that's a good thing
What they don't know about you
Is their loss
And when they laugh at you
Make you feel worthless in your own skin
They don't know you're going to do some amazing things
You are me
You are here
It feels like ages from now
When your strangeness turns to strength
And it all becomes so clear
Everyone is lost until their heart is found
Everyone feels weak
Everyone breaks down
Everyone needs love and a place to call their own
Everyone is tired
Everyone feels totally alone
There's something strange about you
But that's a good thing
What they don't know about you
I can see
They say we're the strange ones, but we are the lucky ones
We grew up stringer, we grew knowing
What the others take a lifetime to understand
There's nothing strange about us at all
Everyone is lost until their heart is found
Everyone feels weak
Everyone breaks down
Everyone needs love and a place to call their own
Everyone must know
That no one is alone
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Monica Richards Los Angeles, California
Best known for her musical work as half of the critically acclaimed duo, Faith and the Muse, and her own solo releases, Monica is a composer, writer and artist living near Los Angeles.
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