Wizards cast spells,
Judges give sentences,
The world is a lyrical place...
Spell your name...
If I could, I would fold these words like origami,
And float them on the water so they'd swim your way.
And if I could, I'd hang these words like laundry,
So if the day got hot, we'd have a spot in the shade.
I would take these words and sprinkle them like rose petals,
From your toes to your head they'd fall forever never settle.
I would fluff these words into feathers, making a bed,
So you would dream peacefully each night you slept,
And when you awoke, they'd make a beautiful silk robe,
So every part of you would love every other and you would know.
If I could, I would braid these words into a rope,
So we could climb up to Heaven and watch the moon come and go.
I would fashion these words into a hammock so we'd swing in it,
And feel the time pass the way the hammock was singing it,
Then they'd march up your arms and find the places you're ticklish,
And then we'd squeeze out the juice like nectar and drink of them.
I would melt these words down to gold kernels and plant them,
So you'd have more fruit in your garden than you can manage.
And if you got hurt, I'd wrap these words around you like a bandage,
That would mend your sweet wounds with the most soothing of language, the way
Wizards cast spells
and judges give sentences,
The world is a lyrical place...
Spell your name, so the empress can enter it into the record.
From alpha to omega, a circle is made,
As the snake bites its trail from a to z and from z to a...
With words, we send our love and affection,
And with words, we defend and protect us,
They say the tongue's a double-sword, with it we've kissed and we've fought,
Debated and taught, so "let me hold my tongue not!"
(Quoteth Shakespeare)
And the message is clear: words create reality,
What we say appears,
The way molecules make a chair,
Humanity's made of stories,
So draw your double-edged sword,
I'm not speaking metaphorically.
(chorus)
and hold it like a key because we're cracking the code!
Sunday, November 1, 2009
Metamorphosis Lyrics: Introducing...Homage and Freemoney
And so, in the spirit of this lyrical universe,
I'd like to welcome you as a fellow character written into the cosmic drama...together we will take part in an event not unlike a wizard's spell woven over the heart's drumbeat with the kick-snare of a judges mallet.
But first things first: we are Heartcore.
As in "heart" in the chest.
Yes, Heartcore.
Welcome to Metamorphosis, let's get started shall we?
They want to know who we are and what do we do in a few short words,
Cool.
Like they want to know how it begun and the places from which it grew.
So let me break-it-down like a boogaloo move on the record for all of you,
My name is Homage the Halfrican Cracker for all Calgarian crews.
And the music is my brother "Freemoney" the 5th,
That's his name, for the record, with the records spinning the disks,
Like deja-vu towards a deja-who?
We are the Heartcore,
That's our crew, incorporated under a truce,
Yes, Heartcore, as in heart in the chest, but don't get it confused:
Because it's harder than the fake-ganger images from those fools.
I may be speaking to a few or a multitude,
A crowd, or a room, it doesn't matter it takes two.
Excuse me this, music, it's mutual when expressed,
We are the best kept secret in Calgary since Bre-X.
And we're taking it back, way back, before the time of rap,
Before Adam and Eve consumed that psychedelic plant.
Before Calgary was filled with feathered lizards on land,
Before they filled up our gas tanks and this was Albertistan,
Yeah I said it, the way I meant it: we're taking it back to the first seed,
Like every chapter was a telescope to the past,
Like a time-machine...who know what I mean?
So let's move now, from the middle of the mandela to the edge,
Like water submersing an egg,
First with the heart; then the head.
And when it's all said, we grow, unfolding beyond this,
So watch me rock this mic like a mob stoning a prophet.
'Cuz truth is not a contest, or a macho conquest,
It's a homophobe...in a room without closets.
It may whisper, but not listening's never an option,
It's a one-night stand in Banff without a condom.
So the more you try to keep it concealed, the more the problems,
You know a moment of truth when you see it, forget concepts.
What we're doing is a mirror for all the secrets held hostage.
Raise your hands if music is God,
Raise your hands if I'm talking shit,
Whatever it is, or isn't, it's all of it swallowed at once, this instant,
Logical nonsense, never felt so good, so vivid.
So let me shoot straight to the matter like a comet hissing and hitting,
With so much content for the cause, these songs take an intermission like this...
So would I'd like to do, for you and yours, and all of ya'll,
Is draw some attention upon the energy entering the veins of faces,
...of all ages, races and genders like "Who sent ya?"
So in a way we've understood it:
This is REAL Hiphop to the Buckminster Fullest.
I freeze bullets of rhetoric, mid-air in front of me,
Shot from the corporate crooks like did I miss something?"
I'd rather describe a butterfly, climbing a tornado,
So you can say it ain't so!
But what you can't say is that is the same ole.
It's somewhere between rubbing a pregnant belly and squaring a circle.
We bring reality to real estate and other unreal states of the world.
Musically hard as concrete, or the emotion of denial,
I'll quote the Bible on the Pope and make a granola sound recycled.
They couldn't hold up this conversation if the mic was a rifle,
...you know what I mean?
I'd like to welcome you as a fellow character written into the cosmic drama...together we will take part in an event not unlike a wizard's spell woven over the heart's drumbeat with the kick-snare of a judges mallet.
But first things first: we are Heartcore.
As in "heart" in the chest.
Yes, Heartcore.
Welcome to Metamorphosis, let's get started shall we?
They want to know who we are and what do we do in a few short words,
Cool.
Like they want to know how it begun and the places from which it grew.
So let me break-it-down like a boogaloo move on the record for all of you,
My name is Homage the Halfrican Cracker for all Calgarian crews.
And the music is my brother "Freemoney" the 5th,
That's his name, for the record, with the records spinning the disks,
Like deja-vu towards a deja-who?
We are the Heartcore,
That's our crew, incorporated under a truce,
Yes, Heartcore, as in heart in the chest, but don't get it confused:
Because it's harder than the fake-ganger images from those fools.
I may be speaking to a few or a multitude,
A crowd, or a room, it doesn't matter it takes two.
Excuse me this, music, it's mutual when expressed,
We are the best kept secret in Calgary since Bre-X.
And we're taking it back, way back, before the time of rap,
Before Adam and Eve consumed that psychedelic plant.
Before Calgary was filled with feathered lizards on land,
Before they filled up our gas tanks and this was Albertistan,
Yeah I said it, the way I meant it: we're taking it back to the first seed,
Like every chapter was a telescope to the past,
Like a time-machine...who know what I mean?
So let's move now, from the middle of the mandela to the edge,
Like water submersing an egg,
First with the heart; then the head.
And when it's all said, we grow, unfolding beyond this,
So watch me rock this mic like a mob stoning a prophet.
'Cuz truth is not a contest, or a macho conquest,
It's a homophobe...in a room without closets.
It may whisper, but not listening's never an option,
It's a one-night stand in Banff without a condom.
So the more you try to keep it concealed, the more the problems,
You know a moment of truth when you see it, forget concepts.
What we're doing is a mirror for all the secrets held hostage.
Raise your hands if music is God,
Raise your hands if I'm talking shit,
Whatever it is, or isn't, it's all of it swallowed at once, this instant,
Logical nonsense, never felt so good, so vivid.
So let me shoot straight to the matter like a comet hissing and hitting,
With so much content for the cause, these songs take an intermission like this...
So would I'd like to do, for you and yours, and all of ya'll,
Is draw some attention upon the energy entering the veins of faces,
...of all ages, races and genders like "Who sent ya?"
So in a way we've understood it:
This is REAL Hiphop to the Buckminster Fullest.
I freeze bullets of rhetoric, mid-air in front of me,
Shot from the corporate crooks like did I miss something?"
I'd rather describe a butterfly, climbing a tornado,
So you can say it ain't so!
But what you can't say is that is the same ole.
It's somewhere between rubbing a pregnant belly and squaring a circle.
We bring reality to real estate and other unreal states of the world.
Musically hard as concrete, or the emotion of denial,
I'll quote the Bible on the Pope and make a granola sound recycled.
They couldn't hold up this conversation if the mic was a rifle,
...you know what I mean?
Metamorphosis Lyrics: Brief History of Hiphop
Hiphop is of the heart whether Brooklyn or African.
Period.
The richy-businessmen can never tax it,
Many understand it only watching it happen,
As if DJ'ing only started because of rapping...
The story couldn't be more backward,
We wouldn't rap today had we never had scratching.
It was the table that gave the sound for rapping,
The audible evolution of African chanting,
The digital tune of blacks and latinos clapping,
With universal language that translated the planet, listen...you know the:
Hiphop kind of began with breakdancing,
As DJs and dancers toured without rappers,
The dancers "blew up" and gave Hiphop status,
As mainstream minds received it enthusiastic.
And it was mutual: DJ and dancer traveling,
All over the map, expressing their honest passions,
Graffiti artists emerged tagging and graffing,
Thus completing the culture as we have it.
Remember: Hiphop is of the heart,
The mother land is Africa,
Blended in Brooklyn with latin hands,
From the famished ghettos to what the industry grabbed...to suburban streets...
At some point, DJs and dancers let rappers
Tour with them across the map and travel,
But rappers became celebrities and somehow managed
To make the money by simply rapping.
So they belittled the dancers and the scratching,
Thus forsaking the roots they grew from to simply cash-in.
Even today, rappers get all the action,
So let's bring, way back, to the passion.
See most Hiphoppers forget Hiphop's atlas,
Some believe it grew from how analysts "handled" it,
Which is true but see it's culture is rooted in ancient Africa.
The call-and-repeat thing: an African practice.
Let's pay our dues to the scratching, graffing and breakdancing,
In sacred ritual, let's thank the latinos and Africans,
When I say "God Bless" you say the culture...
"God Bless" "The Culture"
"God Bless" "The Culture"
And yes it needs your blessing though bigger than all of its parts,
Unchartered moments are beating deeply in human hearts.
Call it entertainment, education, culture or art,
One thing's for certain: the small things carry the large.
And it needs your mind before its stomach starves...
It needs you, you need me, and I need you
Just as you are.
Hiphop is of the heart,
...for the love of Hiphop.
(chorus)
Period.
The richy-businessmen can never tax it,
Many understand it only watching it happen,
As if DJ'ing only started because of rapping...
The story couldn't be more backward,
We wouldn't rap today had we never had scratching.
It was the table that gave the sound for rapping,
The audible evolution of African chanting,
The digital tune of blacks and latinos clapping,
With universal language that translated the planet, listen...you know the:
Hiphop kind of began with breakdancing,
As DJs and dancers toured without rappers,
The dancers "blew up" and gave Hiphop status,
As mainstream minds received it enthusiastic.
And it was mutual: DJ and dancer traveling,
All over the map, expressing their honest passions,
Graffiti artists emerged tagging and graffing,
Thus completing the culture as we have it.
Remember: Hiphop is of the heart,
The mother land is Africa,
Blended in Brooklyn with latin hands,
From the famished ghettos to what the industry grabbed...to suburban streets...
At some point, DJs and dancers let rappers
Tour with them across the map and travel,
But rappers became celebrities and somehow managed
To make the money by simply rapping.
So they belittled the dancers and the scratching,
Thus forsaking the roots they grew from to simply cash-in.
Even today, rappers get all the action,
So let's bring, way back, to the passion.
See most Hiphoppers forget Hiphop's atlas,
Some believe it grew from how analysts "handled" it,
Which is true but see it's culture is rooted in ancient Africa.
The call-and-repeat thing: an African practice.
Let's pay our dues to the scratching, graffing and breakdancing,
In sacred ritual, let's thank the latinos and Africans,
When I say "God Bless" you say the culture...
"God Bless" "The Culture"
"God Bless" "The Culture"
And yes it needs your blessing though bigger than all of its parts,
Unchartered moments are beating deeply in human hearts.
Call it entertainment, education, culture or art,
One thing's for certain: the small things carry the large.
And it needs your mind before its stomach starves...
It needs you, you need me, and I need you
Just as you are.
Hiphop is of the heart,
...for the love of Hiphop.
(chorus)
Metamorphosis Lyrics: Raw
Yeah baby I like it raw...
Oh baby I like it raw...
Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yo, shimmy yay,
Give me the mic and I can take it away.
Off on a natural charge it's Homage,
Coming from the Original Medicine squad,
Calgary killa bees at the Ball,
The name I represent is a summons to evolve.
Imagine all life on earth is involved,
Like fish up the beach of evolution we crawl.
And like kids in candy shops I want it all,
And if I didn't get it then, I would sulk.
When one day I was old enough to feel the results,
And saw that my hunger was only withdrawal.
And when I ate a candy bar it felt like chalk,
And fast food wasn't even worth it's salt.
Now I don't mean to criticize like another know-it-all,
To get us up-in-arms with nit-pickity brawls.
I don't trust diet plans or following food laws,
If someone thinks salmon is bad: it's their loss.
We eat to live and enjoying it's not wrong,
I'm advocating food not political cause.
Everyone has their cup of tea from the pot,
We all dance to the tune of our own song.
Like Vegans say don't it eat it if it crawls,
Others say the same of a split-hoot paw.
While others claim to eat apples only in the fall,
Some say atkins, other say St. Paul.
I figure toxin's toxin whatever it's called,
Like every other item in a food court mall.
...It smells really good until the bathroom stall,
It makes think of those who never use a stove-top,
Never process food, it's never frozen nor thawed,
If I had to pick a side, it's Nature
(1:40)
Oh baby I like it raw...
(1:50)
Rhubarb...hemp hearts...radishes...and chard,
You don't need recipes if it's coming from the heart,
I take a cup of almonds and I soak them in some water,
Leave them for a while so they'll soften, not harden,
Slice them over lettuce for a salad like "ugggh",
Let food be medicine like herbs in the sun...
We don't need additives and chemicals in the blood,
We need sustenance like a plate full of Love,
Alive full of enzymes not like Wonder bread,
Where you wonder if it's food at all, just because it's said,
And you have to be a chemist just to read ingredients,
When you're hungry, ask is it real?
When you eat again.
I'm talking lemon juice, sushi, pineapples, with couscous,
Raw chocolate, cherry tomatoes, the food's food...
(2:30)
Oh baby I like it raw...
Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yo, shimmy yay,
Give me the mic and I can take it away.
Off on a natural charge it's Homage,
Coming from the Original Medicine squad,
Calgary killa bees at the Ball,
The name I represent is a summons to evolve.
Oh baby I like it raw...
Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yo, shimmy yay,
Give me the mic and I can take it away.
Off on a natural charge it's Homage,
Coming from the Original Medicine squad,
Calgary killa bees at the Ball,
The name I represent is a summons to evolve.
Imagine all life on earth is involved,
Like fish up the beach of evolution we crawl.
And like kids in candy shops I want it all,
And if I didn't get it then, I would sulk.
When one day I was old enough to feel the results,
And saw that my hunger was only withdrawal.
And when I ate a candy bar it felt like chalk,
And fast food wasn't even worth it's salt.
Now I don't mean to criticize like another know-it-all,
To get us up-in-arms with nit-pickity brawls.
I don't trust diet plans or following food laws,
If someone thinks salmon is bad: it's their loss.
We eat to live and enjoying it's not wrong,
I'm advocating food not political cause.
Everyone has their cup of tea from the pot,
We all dance to the tune of our own song.
Like Vegans say don't it eat it if it crawls,
Others say the same of a split-hoot paw.
While others claim to eat apples only in the fall,
Some say atkins, other say St. Paul.
I figure toxin's toxin whatever it's called,
Like every other item in a food court mall.
...It smells really good until the bathroom stall,
It makes think of those who never use a stove-top,
Never process food, it's never frozen nor thawed,
If I had to pick a side, it's Nature
(1:40)
Oh baby I like it raw...
(1:50)
Rhubarb...hemp hearts...radishes...and chard,
You don't need recipes if it's coming from the heart,
I take a cup of almonds and I soak them in some water,
Leave them for a while so they'll soften, not harden,
Slice them over lettuce for a salad like "ugggh",
Let food be medicine like herbs in the sun...
We don't need additives and chemicals in the blood,
We need sustenance like a plate full of Love,
Alive full of enzymes not like Wonder bread,
Where you wonder if it's food at all, just because it's said,
And you have to be a chemist just to read ingredients,
When you're hungry, ask is it real?
When you eat again.
I'm talking lemon juice, sushi, pineapples, with couscous,
Raw chocolate, cherry tomatoes, the food's food...
(2:30)
Oh baby I like it raw...
Shimmy shimmy ya, shimmy yo, shimmy yay,
Give me the mic and I can take it away.
Off on a natural charge it's Homage,
Coming from the Original Medicine squad,
Calgary killa bees at the Ball,
The name I represent is a summons to evolve.
Metamorphosis Lyrics: The Dance of Kali
The Dark Dance of Kali
I dedicate this to the wise,
The ones who summon the strength
To shine, like the Sun -without measure, beyond length
With a smile of sun rays in the face of complaints,
Shining over all and everything,
Even what we're against...'cuz it's one in the same
There's one purpose, one sermon, behind this surface of words,
That we dance away our burdens.
And raise the curtains,
And observe this.
Like the dilating eyes between a mother and child,
Like electric currents between lovers.
Between a dancer's stamping feet and the skin of the earth,
We give ourselves to something greater every time it occurs
So where's the rebirth?
It's the movement outlining the silent music behind heard...you feel it?
It's the knowing before it was learned,
It's the intuition of living before we were sure.
Our bodies kiss the lips of God,
Forget gender: We're binary stars in an orbit of art,
With every vertebrae like the frets of a guitar,
Balancing the negative with the positive charge,
So how's your Heart?
We used to think "good and bad" but now it's dance of Kali,
And dancing more revolutionary than any rally,
Though the symphony can be stranger than Salvador Dali,
The dance must go on, the dark dance of Kali.
Ladies move like the rings of Saturn was a hoola hoop,
The way the word "woman" meant "man with a womb"
So who's to defy the rhythm?
From the hip, side, heart and the chin,
And from the chin to neck, shoulders, elbow and wrists,
And from the wrists to the little chakras in the hands to the fingertips,
It's magnificent: this quantum computer...
We don't need books to read the Kama Sutra,
It's the past and future however it suits ya,
And it's a long way in like it's a deep journey down
In this grand adventure towards the center.
Who sent ya?
I dedicate this to the knower of light,
Those who know when it feels right,
Those who embrace the angels and demons inside,
Through the movement,
The union,
The music,
The tuning,
Like every pulse was an instinctual digital signal,
Like every ligament was the string of a violin,
Giving voice to every tendon, muscle, joint and limb,
Some say, these are the harps of heavenly instruments,
Some say many indescribable things without lips,
Shaping the space around us so when the breeze blows by,
We make different sounds just by redefining our surroundings,
It's the dark dance of Kali traveling up our spines,
The way an uncoiled serpent is lured to paradise.
It's the purpose below this surface of words:
Man and woman: surrender your burdens,
Man and woman: sing to this song of this one sermon
"There's one dance, one rap, one jam, and two hands to make one clap."
It's the marriage of yin and yang,
And right here there's everything that there is to have,
And you know what they say that illustrates this act,
"For those who don't hear the music, the dancers look mad,"
Making love to the sacred outside the ego's grasp,
Never trust a revolutionary that doesn't dance,
Though it's a long way in like it's a deep journey down
In this grand adventure towards the center
Who sent ya?
I dedicate this to the wise,
The ones who summon the strength
To shine, like the Sun -without measure, beyond length
With a smile of sun rays in the face of complaints,
Shining over all and everything,
Even what we're against...'cuz it's one in the same
There's one purpose, one sermon, behind this surface of words,
That we dance away our burdens.
And raise the curtains,
And observe this.
Like the dilating eyes between a mother and child,
Like electric currents between lovers.
Between a dancer's stamping feet and the skin of the earth,
We give ourselves to something greater every time it occurs
So where's the rebirth?
It's the movement outlining the silent music behind heard...you feel it?
It's the knowing before it was learned,
It's the intuition of living before we were sure.
Our bodies kiss the lips of God,
Forget gender: We're binary stars in an orbit of art,
With every vertebrae like the frets of a guitar,
Balancing the negative with the positive charge,
So how's your Heart?
We used to think "good and bad" but now it's dance of Kali,
And dancing more revolutionary than any rally,
Though the symphony can be stranger than Salvador Dali,
The dance must go on, the dark dance of Kali.
Ladies move like the rings of Saturn was a hoola hoop,
The way the word "woman" meant "man with a womb"
So who's to defy the rhythm?
From the hip, side, heart and the chin,
And from the chin to neck, shoulders, elbow and wrists,
And from the wrists to the little chakras in the hands to the fingertips,
It's magnificent: this quantum computer...
We don't need books to read the Kama Sutra,
It's the past and future however it suits ya,
And it's a long way in like it's a deep journey down
In this grand adventure towards the center.
Who sent ya?
I dedicate this to the knower of light,
Those who know when it feels right,
Those who embrace the angels and demons inside,
Through the movement,
The union,
The music,
The tuning,
Like every pulse was an instinctual digital signal,
Like every ligament was the string of a violin,
Giving voice to every tendon, muscle, joint and limb,
Some say, these are the harps of heavenly instruments,
Some say many indescribable things without lips,
Shaping the space around us so when the breeze blows by,
We make different sounds just by redefining our surroundings,
It's the dark dance of Kali traveling up our spines,
The way an uncoiled serpent is lured to paradise.
It's the purpose below this surface of words:
Man and woman: surrender your burdens,
Man and woman: sing to this song of this one sermon
"There's one dance, one rap, one jam, and two hands to make one clap."
It's the marriage of yin and yang,
And right here there's everything that there is to have,
And you know what they say that illustrates this act,
"For those who don't hear the music, the dancers look mad,"
Making love to the sacred outside the ego's grasp,
Never trust a revolutionary that doesn't dance,
Though it's a long way in like it's a deep journey down
In this grand adventure towards the center
Who sent ya?
Metamorphosis Lyrics: Holistic Hiphop
It's the...year of the Octopus
HEY!
Coming live with the mind well-trained,
Heartcore from the rib-cage,
In the competitive coral of urban landscape.
Ribs open...like petals of a lotus,
...flicks of tentacle tips, Metamorphosis.
Yeah, they call me Homage,
and I'll rock this mic like a mob stoning a prophet.
And one day we'll all we shamans,
So forget what you think about Barrack Obama,
We'll all answer directly to the Goddess,
And credit-card debt will pale to a dark conscience.
So take what you want, decide whether to use this,
Call it what you want, even if not music.
The truth is, it's right now, right here,
From the ground to the fruit in the millenial year.
It's the first return that we've changed gears,
Of the Earth: it's Holistic Hiphop for the ears.
I've spent years, teaching the children,
Like public schools of fish in government buildings,
And now it's family business from the beats to the rhymes,
And like an "on" switch, we represent the light,
With Halfrican Cracker blood in us,
From Marley, Malcolm X, and Iginla,
From the cradle of Africa to the island of Guinness,
It's all home-brewed in the caccoon so get lifted!
And let's leave all dogma thoughts,
So when we pray, let's not pray to a placebo God,
And with that, I'll close with a Shakespearean clause:
"If music is the food of love, play on!"
HEY!
Coming live with the mind well-trained,
Heartcore from the rib-cage,
In the competitive coral of urban landscape.
Ribs open...like petals of a lotus,
...flicks of tentacle tips, Metamorphosis.
Yeah, they call me Homage,
and I'll rock this mic like a mob stoning a prophet.
And one day we'll all we shamans,
So forget what you think about Barrack Obama,
We'll all answer directly to the Goddess,
And credit-card debt will pale to a dark conscience.
So take what you want, decide whether to use this,
Call it what you want, even if not music.
The truth is, it's right now, right here,
From the ground to the fruit in the millenial year.
It's the first return that we've changed gears,
Of the Earth: it's Holistic Hiphop for the ears.
I've spent years, teaching the children,
Like public schools of fish in government buildings,
And now it's family business from the beats to the rhymes,
And like an "on" switch, we represent the light,
With Halfrican Cracker blood in us,
From Marley, Malcolm X, and Iginla,
From the cradle of Africa to the island of Guinness,
It's all home-brewed in the caccoon so get lifted!
And let's leave all dogma thoughts,
So when we pray, let's not pray to a placebo God,
And with that, I'll close with a Shakespearean clause:
"If music is the food of love, play on!"
Metamorphosis Lyrics: In The Beginning...
Allow me to...hit it again with the rhythm of clicks,
The first, the second, the fifth, to the infinite
BOOM! tick tick tick...
Let me revisit again, 'cuz in the beginning there was the Word,
And everything in it,
The image, the him, the her, the void, the formless perfect,
Word!
And in the beginning there was the "UGGH!"
The first Love to the second it stung,
The urge, the thirst,
The purest of hunches, the curious Love,
And surely enough, the potential was wild.
Like cracks in the egg shell.
When Woman and Man manifested a child,
The Trinity was built.
Humanity was a savannah plant in the window sill,
Gathering light to photosynthesize at will
In the African sunrise, right?
For in the beginning we lived in Eden,
Swinging from foliage leave,
With everything we'd ever need,
Like the fruits, the seeds, a safe place to sleep within arm's reach.
It was a party, no one was starving,
But like I said, the potential was wild,
For the conditions of this equilibrium changed our living to exile.
And a different time was told on the vertebraic sundial.
As climactic change erased our jungles...
Our way of living...
And our oasis reduced to puddles...
After a million years we were humbled.
Troubled.
The transition of living in Paradise to the desert was anything but subtle.
Imagine the human family, coming down from the trees for the first time,
Broad daylight,
Eyes unaccustomed to the shine,
Having to stand up to get a sight,
Scrounging for food to eat,
Measly plants in the desert cracks,
We were patriarchal primates without a plan
Just vulnerable nomads.
But like they say,
It's always the darkest before the sun's at hand,
For in this wretched state of climactic change,
The human experiment hatched.
(1:28)
So there we were...naked apes living in paradise, residing in what could be called the Garden of Eden...when all in an eon's moment, our jungle home became a grassland, and like refugees, we left in exile, thus beginning the human experiment...
The human experiment,
Mother nature's coin tossed on the gambling table,
Began like a bet in the cosmic casino,
And every bit as unstable.
It began in Africa, in the desert land,
With the human family scavenging,
Living hand to mouth
In a land of droughts,
Like naked apes living it out.
It began with a handful, of clever women and men,
Who instead of missing the garden,
Decided to go ahead,
Take a risk, and observe the environment glaring at them.
Some found herbs to eat,
Some hunted small animals,
While clever ones found an easy meal following the trail of roaming cattle.
They learned to flip over the cattle patties of manure dropped along,
And what they'd find was a fresh mushroom underneath,
Bon Appetite!
And since you are what you eat,
Those who ate certain things would have advantages you could see,
And those who had access to those advantages would be the ones who would simply out-breed.
So what advantages?
At a low dose,
Hand-eye skills enhance,
So you could see how a hunting animal throwing a spear would advance.
At a higher dose, each woman and man would have excited sexual glands,
So for those eating the mushroom, they'd certainly outbreed,
For the simple fact.
But at a higher dose, something different happened, to these primate nomads,
They found their inner world disassemble like the way the climate changed the land.
They began traveling the Mind,
Inventing languages
Painting cave walls
Rapidly evolving...boundaries dissolving...
It was the birth of religion,
Patriarchy had fallen,
Group unity exalted,
And with the mushroom's trance, orgies regularly resulted.
And for those involved it was a cleansing,
An innovation to the primate way,
As all the fathers cared for the children as one,
Matriarchy reigned.
But the creativity that made the Word become Flesh,
We went from naked apes to shamanic humans,
From one second to the next...
Creating tools like cities, agriculture and all the like...
It was like the mushroom catalyzed this like a chemical ally.
Our brains doubled in size... virtually overnight,
But once again, climate change came in effect,
And cut the mushroom supply...
So here we are: shamanic humans without ritual,
Spiritual beings back in the physical,
Patriarchal apes, but with power now,
The human experiment plays,
To the current day...
Yes, this is the human experiment...
The result of everything we see today...The journey of ordinary apes becoming human...It was climate change that drove us from the Garden of Eden, banishing us in search for food and a new way of life...this was the beginning.
The same thing that evolved us in its presence,
May now destroy us in its absence.
What helped us invent language... cities......civilization...
Led us to invent atom bombs the moment it left us...
What then was it...?
The first, the second, the fifth, to the infinite
BOOM! tick tick tick...
Let me revisit again, 'cuz in the beginning there was the Word,
And everything in it,
The image, the him, the her, the void, the formless perfect,
Word!
And in the beginning there was the "UGGH!"
The first Love to the second it stung,
The urge, the thirst,
The purest of hunches, the curious Love,
And surely enough, the potential was wild.
Like cracks in the egg shell.
When Woman and Man manifested a child,
The Trinity was built.
Humanity was a savannah plant in the window sill,
Gathering light to photosynthesize at will
In the African sunrise, right?
For in the beginning we lived in Eden,
Swinging from foliage leave,
With everything we'd ever need,
Like the fruits, the seeds, a safe place to sleep within arm's reach.
It was a party, no one was starving,
But like I said, the potential was wild,
For the conditions of this equilibrium changed our living to exile.
And a different time was told on the vertebraic sundial.
As climactic change erased our jungles...
Our way of living...
And our oasis reduced to puddles...
After a million years we were humbled.
Troubled.
The transition of living in Paradise to the desert was anything but subtle.
Imagine the human family, coming down from the trees for the first time,
Broad daylight,
Eyes unaccustomed to the shine,
Having to stand up to get a sight,
Scrounging for food to eat,
Measly plants in the desert cracks,
We were patriarchal primates without a plan
Just vulnerable nomads.
But like they say,
It's always the darkest before the sun's at hand,
For in this wretched state of climactic change,
The human experiment hatched.
(1:28)
So there we were...naked apes living in paradise, residing in what could be called the Garden of Eden...when all in an eon's moment, our jungle home became a grassland, and like refugees, we left in exile, thus beginning the human experiment...
The human experiment,
Mother nature's coin tossed on the gambling table,
Began like a bet in the cosmic casino,
And every bit as unstable.
It began in Africa, in the desert land,
With the human family scavenging,
Living hand to mouth
In a land of droughts,
Like naked apes living it out.
It began with a handful, of clever women and men,
Who instead of missing the garden,
Decided to go ahead,
Take a risk, and observe the environment glaring at them.
Some found herbs to eat,
Some hunted small animals,
While clever ones found an easy meal following the trail of roaming cattle.
They learned to flip over the cattle patties of manure dropped along,
And what they'd find was a fresh mushroom underneath,
Bon Appetite!
And since you are what you eat,
Those who ate certain things would have advantages you could see,
And those who had access to those advantages would be the ones who would simply out-breed.
So what advantages?
At a low dose,
Hand-eye skills enhance,
So you could see how a hunting animal throwing a spear would advance.
At a higher dose, each woman and man would have excited sexual glands,
So for those eating the mushroom, they'd certainly outbreed,
For the simple fact.
But at a higher dose, something different happened, to these primate nomads,
They found their inner world disassemble like the way the climate changed the land.
They began traveling the Mind,
Inventing languages
Painting cave walls
Rapidly evolving...boundaries dissolving...
It was the birth of religion,
Patriarchy had fallen,
Group unity exalted,
And with the mushroom's trance, orgies regularly resulted.
And for those involved it was a cleansing,
An innovation to the primate way,
As all the fathers cared for the children as one,
Matriarchy reigned.
But the creativity that made the Word become Flesh,
We went from naked apes to shamanic humans,
From one second to the next...
Creating tools like cities, agriculture and all the like...
It was like the mushroom catalyzed this like a chemical ally.
Our brains doubled in size... virtually overnight,
But once again, climate change came in effect,
And cut the mushroom supply...
So here we are: shamanic humans without ritual,
Spiritual beings back in the physical,
Patriarchal apes, but with power now,
The human experiment plays,
To the current day...
Yes, this is the human experiment...
The result of everything we see today...The journey of ordinary apes becoming human...It was climate change that drove us from the Garden of Eden, banishing us in search for food and a new way of life...this was the beginning.
The same thing that evolved us in its presence,
May now destroy us in its absence.
What helped us invent language... cities......civilization...
Led us to invent atom bombs the moment it left us...
What then was it...?
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