Plucking the String

Date: January 9, 2005
Genre: talk and rhythm


       
Wish I had any simple way to describe this.  In one sense, it's an experiment in the concept of energy--magic through music, let's call it.  Returning Karma, perhaps.  But mostly, it's working out a story that may not be written down for a long time.
        As for the vocals... yeah, I know there are large chunks that are unclear.  I'd actually prefer it if you listened first, without reading the lyrics, and see what you got out of it.  Then you can read to see what I really said, but... I always find misheard lyrics to be terribly revealing about the person listening to them.  Try it, it's cool.  This is an experiment in magic, remember--I'm the only one that needs to understand every word.  Heh.
        You'll notice "burn" to used several times.  Intentional placements.  Come on, figure it out.  There's a whole puzzle here, if you're that kind of person.


Lyrics
WAKE UP.
WAKE UP.
WAKE UP.
WAKE UP.

Wake up, Sleepers.  The Wakers are coming.  What shall not Awaken, will burn.

It's not that you fear what you can't understand--it's that you fear what you cannot control.  Whatever you can't mark or categorize or label is instantly "weird".  "Strange".  "Abnormal".  "Wrong".

You let yourselves be caged.  You allow yourselves to be diverted, lied to, you allow your beliefs to be dictated to you.  Worst of all, you live according to others.  Rules, regulations, moods, actions, thoughts, dress codes, sexual practices.  Labels, divisions, marked neatly and cleanly, to efficiently be put away.  The cover was not bland enough, beige enough, so the rest of the book must be burned.  Ruined, destroyed, annihilated to be easily forgotten, swept under, burned, to never be thought of again.

How dare you criticize with motive only to infuriate?  You're sitting on your lush, fat, worthless asses while we spend our time creating; vast, thought-provoking, beautiful things from the scars that dicks like you have given us over the years.  And still you sit.  And bitch.  And criticize with no understanding--and no desire to have an understanding--outside of yourself.  Uncreative.  Unthinking.  Never questioning.  Sheep.  Plump, slow, sheep.

Well, I tell you, flock...  I will tell you...

"I send you out as sheep amongst the wolves!"

I am the wolf.

"And the dragon... was forced out of heaven."

I am the dragon.

I am your worst fears and your manifested nightmares, because that is what you make me.

I am free and I am unafraid, and my lack of concern for what you think of me is why you (hate) me.  You are offended and served by my hatred for your chosen ignorance, and yet you are unwilling to acknowledge my love for anything.

I can't change the world, and I wouldn't want to.  I just wanna give it a great, big, scar.  Something to rip, something to bleed, something even you can feel.

Who am I?  I'm the one that's gonna fucking say something.  If I have to be the one to divert your attention so the Wakers can seek a safer passage, then that is what I will do.

But I am only one--one of many.  One, fully individual, amongst many other individuals.  One of strength, one of weakness, one of many and yet all my own.  Seeking to learn, seeking to understand, to awaken.

WAKE UP!

You cannot ignore us forever
- lyrics and music copyright 2004,
Orin Drake