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lyrics

Can't say I know this place or time
because no god would claim me
since we forgot to let our thoughts
just find us where we are.

Like tattered detectives who lean up close
to the pallor of death in the red of the rose,
we once opened our eyes to chronometrical clues
to a doom inscribed in the hours of our youth.

Weaving through nights and the bluster of days,
in the tunnels of truth running under the stage
of life as it brims with the bustle of masks,
we filtered the light and the jewels from the dark.

Now we scurry up sidewalks replete with the yells
and the brawls of humanity held under the spell
by the gleam of the surface obscuring our doom,
no reprieve, no oblivion, we pick at the gloom.

Like alchemists seeking the final secret
to the soul that inhabits the prayer,
and bright-eyed salvationists waving the script
of the way we should be, and not what we are.

O veiled life, we have been seduced by its dance
and we sway and we shudder to its rhythms of chance.
Once we took on the road filled with sorrow and mirth,
but we lost our souls in sounding their worth.

Our eyes on the clock, our eyes on the gauge,
and our eyes on the cracks in the ice of our days —
yes, the void underneath, it roars in our rooms —
if you want us to quit this, just visit us soon.

Pull shut the curtains, and lock up the door,
turn down the light, we can’t bear it no more —
once we sharpened our ears, and we learned hard to see,
now we’ve looked in to deep to ever be free.

Like alchemists seeking the final secret
to the soul that inhabits the prayer,
once bright-eyed salvationists waving the script
of the way we should be, and not what we are.

credits

from From the Wrong Side of the River, released September 8, 2016

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Jeremiah Brimstone Band Cape Town, South Africa

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