RELEASE DATE: 2012
CRAFTY HANDS MUSIC
CATALOG NUMBER: CHM001
Frank Wyatt / keyboards, saxophones
Stanley Whitaker / vocals, guitars
David Hughes / vocals, bass guitar
Bill Brasso / drums, percussion
Michael Phipps / cover art
Produced, arranged and mixed by Oblivion Sun
Recorded at Crafty Hands Studio
Engineered by Frank Wyatt
Mastered by Kit Watkins
ⓟ Oblivion Sun
© 2012 Crafty Hands Music, ASCAP all rights reserved
The High Places
The High Places
(My Eyes )
The eyes of a child seldom hold the lie.
That is saved for a lesser time,
When all color fades into darkness,
The subtle maid rains her fractures.
And I, not so old, still I try
To see inside, crack the aether’s spheres with rhyme.
Prying with my fingertips bloodied,
Everything that’s written, I study.
The veil is strong, long in its weaving.
The trail is not gone, and there’s no doubt where it leads.....
Flowing dreamlike, milky white, a cape flows out behind her.
My love defines the silky night, moonlit legends bind her.
Black ink runes adorn her arms, a language long forgotten.
Mysteries. Moments spent inside, the Magick of the mountains.
Once again she fades from sight.
She is on her way.
She scales the heights.
(My Eyes 2)
My eyes, lack the sight, still I cast my glance
Through the stars, through all space, I seek the chance
Seek the words and the Holy lands
The clear places men have been and made their stand.
With circled stones, or mounds of Earth
Buried bones, speaking still, those who were here first
Leave their clues, as bards do, poets drawing lines
In the shifting sands of layered time.
Once was a man, or was it me with a different face?
I see him well...
He found his high place.....
“Slow down a bit...what’s all the trouble?
We’re rushing through a crowded house, please don’t break the bubble.
Let me catch my thoughts....I know they’re here somewhere.
You’ve conjured up my face, let me just find the year...
Then we can go for a walk,
My garden is near....”
Flowers, I like to keep them.
As I touch them with my hands, they offer greetings.
There is a card in Nature’s hand that she will not play
Unless she’s coaxed and tempted, it’s the Shaman’s way.
And once revealed, the Goddess offers much
In smoke and brew one receives her touch
The sunrise now comes slowly and pure
More colors there than there ever were before.
The thoughts within us flow like crystal springs.....
So from this high place, I spin my dreams
Within them this story of a place I have seen....
High upon a white chalk wall,
Chiseled there, the mighty hall
With multi-colored banners flying
Pointing to the sea.
Below them, sleeping dragons,
Dream of armored men
Who come upon their stallions
Bearing destinies so grim.
What sort of Earth is this
Where no law might stay?
Has the last of our Unicorns
Standing on the open cliff,
With billowing white garment
A man stares at the ocean as
Three gulls hover, wind’s adornments.
The frown upon his gold-crowned brow
Speaks of troubled moments
Poised upon this precipice
Where worlds are set in motion.
“Can this be the last of things, as I have known them?
Where will men find comfort when, they’ve failed to see the omens?
And do I dare stand up
And call them all fools?
Many are the Noble ones,
Who now....make....the rules.
My life has been an open book,
My words have been guarded.
The precious Old Ways, that I have kept
Soon will have parted.
No circle remains that I might build,
No Alchemy....no song.
The grey cloaked men can draw no runes
To turn this end that’s started.
This must be the last of things, as I have known them.
I pray that men remember when they defined this moment.
And I now stand up tall
And call them all fools.
The dragons roar, the church cross breaks
Daring those....who make...the rules.”
They came today, a thousand strong
Fast...on steel shod horses.
Angry men with frozen stares,
Death rallied among their forces.
What chance had we, the few of us?
Though we did not bow down.
We claimed our ground, our blood fell hot
Upon the sand and ashes.
And when the sun sank into the sea,
None of us remained.
The Earth received her children there
And entered a new age.
Magick sleeps now, Dragons gone
Il Quinto Mare is no more,
And all the ways of Merlin’s ken
Are locked up in a cage.
All.....locked up in the cage.
Our eyes, lack the sight still we cast our glance
Through the stars, through all space, we still seek the chance
Seek the words, and the Holy Lands
Seek the paths, to the Highest Places.
Flowing dreamlike, milky white, her cape floats out behind her.
My love again defines the night,
Through moonlit legends......find her.