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1. |
The Weatherman's Garden
17:56
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[Wasn’t it this way?
Maybe it’s the other way?
Maybe it’s through here.]
I went to sleep with your song in my head
You were the same, but I was gone again
For the last time
[I don’t know what that was, but there was a sudden blast of cold air, and I’m getting out of here.]
All you said was, “Wait for me, I will return.”
So I waited whilst the forest burned
No-one could know the secret of our love
[D’you hear that? Sounds like, uh… Is that wind? Do you hear that? It’s stopped. Well, I don’t know what that is. That doesn’t sound like wind, but… that’s crazy. Don’t know if that’s a bird, or… I don’t know what that is. It almost sounds like snakes, but… Well, I heard some weird stuff in mines, but that is definitely creepy. I don’t know what that is, so let’s get out of here and head back out to the portal.]
[What…? What the fuck is that?]
There’s a crow with one white feather
He keeps it together
He lives in the Weatherman’s garden
He’s a crow, he lives in the sky
Where crows never die
Begging your majesty’s pardon
But he’s just a bird
Never uttered a word
All dressed to the nines
In black
[You can see what it’s like over here. That’s her jacket. She wore that jacket while she was here. So, there that jacket is. She wore that hat. There’s the hat over there. She wore that hat. So, here hat and her jacket there.]
I’m such a sentimental fool
Oh, sentimental fool
That’s me, Mr Sentimentality.
That’s me.
Once upon a morning I dreamed about your bones
No-one ever wrote a song who didn’t suffer something
Choose your pain, again again
The same old pain, but here it comes, a whole new day
Sometimes the sea is calling, the sun is falling
The sky turns upside down
Sorry to hear the old dog died
Broke her leg, and how she cried
While we were on the phone
Climbed the stairs and broke her bone
[Oh, you motherf…]
I went to sleep with your song in my head
You were the same, but I was gone again
‘Cause, that’s me.
‘Cause, Mr Sentimentality
That’s me
I went to sleep with your song in my head
You were the same, but I was gone again
For the last time
[Fuck! Oh, God it’s all gravel. How do I put myself out? Quick, quick!]
All you said was, “Wait for me, I will return.”
And so I waited whilst the forest burned
No-one could know the secret of our love
There’s a crow with one white feather
He keeps it together
He lives in the Weatherman’s garden
He’s a crow, he lives in the sky
Where crows never die
Begging your majesty’s pardon
But he’s just a bird
Never uttered a word
All dressed to the nines
In black
[Am I dead? Oh, God. Oh, fuck me. Fuck me, that gravel on the bot… I almost died, that was so fucking close, Holy sh…]
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2. |
The Birds Know
07:14
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[Instrumental.]
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3. |
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[eins, zwei, drei, vier, fünf, sechs, sieben, acht, neun, zehn, elf, zwölf, dreizehn, vierzehn, fünfzehn, sechzehn, siebzehn, achtzehn, neunzehn, zwanzig, einundzwanzig, zweiundzwanzig, dreiundzwanzig, vierundzwanzig, fünfundzwanzig]
You might as well stay down there
Contagion spreading everywhere
The Weatherman is freshening
The east is where the west will sing
He cries Jehova hammering
The nails into his stammering
Best friend who was an adulant
Of the one who hired the commandant
What was his name again?
[Five, four, zero, five, four, zero, six, one, six, one, zero, nine, zero, one]
[That’s it now]
I think it was Harry.
I seem to remember Harry
Now brambles grow along the fence
How happy was the happenstance
Where dog was led and baby cried
Panopticon was god defied
[Fred taught me that everything is music. He got me in an elevator one night in New York, many, many years ago in my youth, on his way up to an apartment, and he turned the light off and said, “Listen.” That made quite an impression on me. I started to listen to the world more after that, hearing musical sounds in almost everything.]
Gravity in all our minds
No particles, no ties that bind
It’s a transdimensional affair
What’s everywhere comes from nowhere
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4. |
A Sacred Text
19:54
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Greta, you’re sinking
Into the ocean
A little bit at a time
And the people
Who say they adore you
One day soon will ignore you
The rich are gonna fly
The poor will die
In the new age
The seas are gonna fall
The seasons crawl
In the ice age
Greta, you better sail home
You think you know what’s going on
But Greta, they’re using what you are
You don’t need them to be a superstar
The Lords of England
Will not freeze
The commons of England
On their knees
Snow Queen
Snow Queen
Greta, what are you thinking?
Your devotion
To your religion
Will see people
Suffer by the million
From the cold
You say isn’t real
The sun still shines
In the middle of the night
Just because you can’t imagine it
Doesn’t make you right
[shame on you, shame on you, shame on you]
Rosemary was the head girl at my school
A thousand years young and no fool
What happened to Rosemary?
What happened to you Rosemary?
She tried to pick me up
In a tiny little van
But I was no man
I fucked the whole thing up
Dear Rosemary
Came in, the room was burning
Sat down, heads were turning
We broke the walls to let the music sing for
Rosemary
Rosemary
I was living on board a ship
I gave the Captain the slip
Nobody knows where Rosemary goes
She travels through infinite space
With elegant calm and grace
DaVinci loves her face
Dear Rosemary
Dear Rosemary
Dear Rosemary
Everything goes there
Nothing will grow there
And time will not flow there
Is gravity really everywhere?
Nothing is seen in the heart of the sun
Caught in your mind but it hasn’t begun
The weatherman has you under his thumb
The weatherman
The weatherman
[Fucking hell.
What the hell’s going on?]
[Uh, the music was not just music, was not just something nice to listen to, but was an instrument of global enlightenment, that it had a kind of, the significance of a sacred text.]
Everything's louder than everything else in this world
The music hurts like decibels of pain
Gathering in the gutter, the falling rain
Everything's louder than everything else in this world
Every word I say is a lie
No-one dies, no-one ever dies
The rivers flow too fast for the oceans and the sky
They say one day we might all drown
I live by the sea, I guess I’m going down
The rivers flow too fast for the oceans and the sky
Once I dreamed of hang gliding over machair sands
Who knew if I would ever land?
Turns out I never did, instead I fell
Once I dreamed of hang gliding over machair sands
The body breaks, the mind escapes
The mind escapes as the body breaks
Greta, you’re sinking
Into the ocean
A little bit at a time
And the people
Who say they adore you
One day soon will ignore you
The rich are gonna fly
The poor will die
In the new age
The seas are gonna fall
The seasons crawl
In the ice age
Greta, you better sail home
You think you know what’s going on
But Greta, they’re using what you are
You don’t need them to be a superstar
The Lords of England
Will not freeze
The commons of England
Down on their knees
Snow Queen
Snow Queen
Greta, what are you thinking?
Your devotion
To your religion
Will see people
Suffer by the million
From the cold
You say isn’t real
The sun still shines
In the middle of the night
Just because you can’t imagine it
Doesn’t make you right
One more time
One more time
[Breathe. Stop trying to figure it all out. It’s how you let go, and if you feel that the terror is sweeping in and about to overwhelm you, don’t follow that thought. As soon as you follow that thought it leads to another thought, such as, “What if I can’t handle this? What if this is too much?” which leads to the thought of, “Maybe this is too much” which leads you to the thought of, “This is too much” which leads to the thought of, “I need this to end now, now, now, get me out of here, get me out of here.” As soon as you enter that panic state, oh the trip goes bad fast.]
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5. |
It's Not That
09:13
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[Not all parts of the brain are the same, in this respect, you see. You’ve got the cerebrum, this is the part at the top, and you know, divided down the middle, and when you see brains that’s what you normally see with the convolutions in it. But right underneath, and at the back, is a thing called the cerebellum, which looks more like a ball of wool or something, and the cerebellum, and there may still be argument about this, but it seems to be that it’s completely unconscious, and it has comparable number of neurons, far more connections between neurons than the cerebrum, and it’s what takes control when, maybe when you’re driving your car and you’re thinking about something else and you’re not thinking what you’re doing, because it’s unconscious, and the unconscious control, you know a pianist who is very expert and moves the fingers around and plays a note with a little finger, that pianist doesn’t think, “Well I’ve got to move that muscle this way, and this bone that way and so on” and it’s all controlled unconsciously, but a lot of this unconscious control is done somewhere else, in the cerebellum, when you get really skilled. So, it seems to be OK you’ve got different kinds of structures, and it could well be that these pyramidal cells which have a particular organisation of microtubules are the ones where the consciousness is really coming to light mainly. I dunno, there’s a lot which is not known about this, controversial and all sorts of things. But the cerebellum seems to be different and organised differently. So, it’s not just how many neurons, how many connections are there, because there are more in the cerebellum. So, it’s not that.]
[The Earth is always changing. Climate change is nothing you have to prove. It always is happening, it always has happened. So, to make that into something alarming seems to me a little bit weird.]
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6. |
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She needs someone to conjure her an angel
A beautiful man with golden wings
She will come when the angel sings
Like a shot of heroin wearing her skin
The murmuration rainbow dances in the sky
It’s evening already, but she can’t tell why
It seems to her the birds know everything
She promises she will dance, but only if they sing
Asteroseismology oh-oh-oh-oh
Helio-eccentricity oh-oh-oh-oh
Starlings making melody oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
Starlings making melody
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
But instead of love a shadow falls
Monsters climbing over crumbling walls
Inside her mind she sings her own sweet song
Then despite it all she is gone
Starlings making melody
Oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
She came to dwell amongst the red tenements
Learned to love, and lost her innocence
Fell for someone new who loved to sing
In the end her song turned into everything
No-one knows what’s coming down the line
Wake up hurting, then you’re feeling fine
Asteroseismology oh-oh-oh-oh
Helio-eccentricity oh-oh-oh-oh
Starlings making melody oh-oh-oh-oh-oh
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7. |
It's the Weatherman
04:47
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The Weatherman lives underground
The birds he killed will never be found
Crow still lives up in the sky
A cinnamon tree growing out of his eye
Angels frozen into place
Rebellion before God’s face
The drugs were good enough to kill
But angels cannot die
So, where’s the thrill
For the Weatherman, together man
The President, the precedent
The Weatherman, the feather man
The President, the precedent
Like voodoo dolls we carry on
Regardless of Hyperion
No lesson learned, the village burned
The white men lie to the children they spurned
The sky above his head is stone
Kills everything and lives alone
The crow stays high and will not call
One day soon the white feather will fall
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Peri Urban UK
Like all musicians I wished I had the same number of limbs as an octopus. My wish was granted, but not in the way I had hoped for. My cephalopod partner is an enthusiastic volunteer from the worldwide animal charity Save Humans From Themselves. We share a special kind of love. ... more
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