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The Ghost Song

Awake

Shake dreams from your hair

My pretty child, my sweet one

Choose the day, choose the sign of your day

The days divinity

First thing you seeA vast radiant beach in a cool jeweled moon

Couples naked race down by its quiet side

And we laugh like soft, mad children

Smug in the woolly cotton brains of infancy

The music and voices are all around usChoose they croon the ancient ones

The time has come again

Choose now, they croon

Beneath the moon

Beside an ancient lakeEnter again the sweet forest

Enter the hot dream

Come with us

Everything is broken up and dancesIndians scattered,

On dawns highway bleeding

Ghosts crowd the young childs,

Fragile eggshell mindWe have assembled inside,

This ancient and insane theater

To propagate our lust for our life,

And flee the swarming wisdom of the streets.The barns have stormed

The windows kept,

And only one of all the rest

To dance and save us

From the divine mockery of words,

Music inflames temperament.Ooh great creator of being

Grant us one more hour,

To perform our art

And perfect our lives.We need great golden copulations,

When true kings murders

Are allowed to roam free,

A thousand musicians arise from the land

Where are the feast we are promised?One more thingThank you oh lord

For the white blind light

Thank you oh lord

For the white blind lightA city rises from the sea

I had a splitting headache

From witch the feature is maid

Songwriters

Rev. Robert WilkinsPublished by

WYNWOOD MUSIC CO. INC. Song Discussions is protected by U.S. Patent 9401941. Other patents pending.

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