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Chapter Two / Resurrection

from Book I: Calcination by Diophage

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about

Please see title.

lyrics

There she was
flowers were blooming
opening white petals to the sun
angels swooped down from the clouds
blowing golden trumpets

Though my eyes see nothing
my fingers see all
Though I cannot see you,
I can feel you
Oh yes,
I can reach inside
I can feel the curvature of your cerebral folding
Every furry crevasse,
Every furry nook
I am looking at you from the inside
Darkness is my light
and the minuscule is my landscape
I’ve been wandering for so many years
I’ve had ample time
Your moment is my eternity
How many ages have I waited?
You are but a babe in a gleaming egg of white
But I am the membrane…
What have you been feeding on?
I felt every bit of growth
I am the envelope
When will you see me?
When will you emerge?
When will you tear me to pieces?
Oh happy day

I give your Child a face
Eyes-
one to look outward
and one to look inward
Ears-
to hear the shuffling of angels
Taste-
for the sugar of blood
Smell-
for the stench of flowers
and Fingers-
with which, to feel

and there she was
and there she is
and there he was
and there he is
and there they are
and there they were
away, away
away
and there they were
away

There he was
flowers were blooming,
opening white petals to the sun
angels swooped down from the clouds
blowing golden trumpets

The sky was breathing
and the earth was shifting in its sleep
the baptismal pool was stagnant
and coated with slime-
but it was beautiful

The stones were shining
shining
shining
and there she was
in the hollow of the rock

and there she was
and there she is
and there he was
and there he is
and there they are
and there they were
away, away
away
and there they were
away

It’s always too late
in the world
It’s always too late
too late
I’ll meet you
I’ll meet you in the desert
where I’m still alive
Not here, where I’m
too late

lyrics by: mark fralick

credits

from Book I: Calcination, released March 11, 2014
Please see album credits.

license

all rights reserved

tags

about

Diophage

experimenting turned into fun. fun turned into noise. the noise turned into this album.

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