1. |
||||
Yesterday a tropic wind laughed at me and said, I been
down south and someone waits for you, fatal vision rendezvous
10 horizons later now make our snow camp anyhow
words of warning long forgot scientific juggernaut
watch me pale Antarctic eyes searching your Antarctic ice
distant mountains in the sky seem enchanted cities to my eyes
90 miles Southward
we sent a separate group
investigate an ancient place
Stop at a remote waste
by peaks of crystal fire
mountains of madness
So they tunneled downward
and found beneath the ice
snow protected caverns
Home of long dead creatures
the fabled elder-race
scientific treasure
Radio reports received the story told
of the specimens they found their 1st dissection notes
cast the evolution theories of the day in disarray
Made our plans to join their group with a haste unparalleled but an Arctic storm arose : radio silence held
We waited through the day until the sky began to clear
Flew above their camp but saw no movement down below what we saw when we arrived.. .a cruel crushing blow
Our expedition brothers left in pieces on the snow
The scene of death around could hardly be explained but even worse our fruitless search no specimens remained
We all drew lots the losers left to search by aero plane
So I flew the barren windswept and dead Antarctic waste into darkly cursed mountains to a truly cursed place
the ruins of an alien city crumbled and misplaced
This land of frozen waste supporting life seemed fantasy but wondering those ruins left me no course but belief
On broken walls their story told
and chronicled a race too old
to measure by the modern day
but I’ll describe them anyway
The very first society
was started not by human beings
but with this great artistic race
of aliens from deepest space
They came before the final freeze
Antarctica their colony
They built a world of colour great
but then began the last ice age
As colder still the earth became
They built an undersea somain
Atlanteans the legend said
It seems Atlantis is not dead
|
||||
2. |
The Festival
25:01
|
|||
Part 1: Arrival
The Yuletide season was upon New England as I
walked crushing snow ‘neath the heel of my boot
To the ancient city of my ancient people attending festival of ancient roots
As the ocean crashed pounding on the stones separating sea from ancestral lands
I beheld the city only dreamed of lately this modern son embraced Kingsport’s hand
Once a hundred clans knew the ancient ways of the rites that were held once a century
Now the poor and lonely of the dark tradition the last to bear responsibility
To uphold the promise of the first forefather continue teaching in the ancient way
So they sent me East to the misty dawn to attend the festival of Hallow Day
I saw vanes and steeples, willow trees and graves where the stones were set in 1692
And the tree of legend where my kinsmen hung
as convicted witches which I now know was true
I walked toward the city and I listened — all was still — No Christmas season songs were sung, no candled windowsills
I reasoned these were Puritans, I was not too dismayed since logic said instead of song they likely knelt and prayed
I passed the dim—lit farmhouses while walking to the place
that ancient custom led me to — on Green Lane #8
I must admit I thought it strange that in that fallen snow
No footprints I could find or make above it or below
In anxious haste I knocked
Instantly it opened
Deaf and dumb he motioned
The Festival is soon
He pointed to a table, 3 books sat waiting
I chose the first one (with hesitation)
I read the title (The Necronomicon) inviting me to alchemy
I read with horror the incantations
I closed the book and closed their demonstrations
when handed cloak and hood to keep me warm from Winter’s tear
The time of Festival was here!
Part 2: Procession
The candles killed we left the house for streets as quiet as death
to join with many other cloaked and hooded marionettes
And now the streets so crowded you’d expect a mighty roar
but silence was the only sound (which seemed to scare me more)
Down corridors on toward churchyard hill
Eyes of the night cold as ice watching still
Top of the spire seemed to point to a star
Aldeberan seemed so near yet so far
So following my voiceless guide but straying to the rear
I watched the others ooze into that church of yesteryear
When finally I crossed that threshold wond’rinq where they’d gone
I saw the alter’d opened leading to oblivion
Now weak from fear I took my place descending spiral stairs
which tunneled through the very heart of Kingsport unaware
Perhaps a mile maybe two into the crypt
I found a world of decay as I slipped
into a nightmare and on farther down
Desperately seeking escape from this hideous ground
Then suddenly I saw a lurid shimmering of light
A river underground of oily water black as night
And in the middle rose a leprous fire of greenish flame
I watched them as they worshipped it in spirit and in name
Part 3: Escape
My subterranean vision shone, a noisome flute did drone
And suddenly the sound of wings ascending from below
The beasts I saw were hybrid things a madness to behold
And in that fire of greenish flame I shivered from the cold
My guide stepped forth to worship and fulfill the ancient game
And all the rest performing rites of long forgotten name
He held the Necronomicon up high for all to see
As one by one each celebrant would mount a winged beast
But not me — I wondered what to do
Could I be a mutiny or just a long forgotten clue?
My host now motioned me to choose a beast to make my flight
But I resisted seeking to escape this hoary rite
Blocked the stairs and grabbed me as his waxen mask did fall
No human head behind it I dove into that river
before the madness of my screams
could bring the charnel legions down to feed on me!
“The nethermost caverns are not for the fathoming
of eyes that see for their marvels are strange and terrific.
Cursed the ground where dead thoughts live
new and oddly bodied, evil the mind that is held by no head.
Happy the tomb where no wizard hath lain and happy the town at night
whose wizards are all ashes
“For it is of old rumors that the soul of the devil—bought haste not (from his charnel clay) but fats and instructs the very worm that gnaws. ‘Till out of corruption horrid life springs and the dull scavengers of earth wax crafty to vex it and monstrous to plague it. Great holes secretly are digged where earths pores ought to suffice
And things have learnt to walk that ought to crawl.”
|
||||
3. |
||||
I
Back in the cold of 1928 government agents destroyed what I'd found
One night in July it was I who ran for my life
Followed the railway that lead out of town
A narrow escape from early mortality sealed my fate
Haunting what I am now
What once they were ever were what I am now!
The tale I must tell to restore my worn faculties
Centers around a tiara like crown
I saw it first hand in the Newburyport library, I had to learn more of
it's source so went round
And bought me a seat on a bus sternly ill-advised
To travel by day to that crumbling town,
That crumbling, worm-eaten, foul whispered town
A seer of sights and a seeker of history a genealogical researcher bound
Uncovering truth, uncovering fantasy, hidden by fear in this
shadowed old town
This Order of Dagon repulsed and attracted me
to desolate Innsmouth decay all around
A primal and fish-like decay all around
II
Joe Sargent he drove the bus, decrepit not one of us
Head narrow, unwinking eye, peculiar, but no surprise
One dollar, I watched the shore, desolation, the sun was warm
Atlantic, dead stumps and walls
An epidemic named Innsmouth calls
Deserted and deathly still, decay and squalor did make me ill
Church basement, an empty door, a priest of Dagon tiara worn
He shambled under robes a bejeweled sinister form
III
Just happy to be happily off that bus and in a hotel
Checked my bag and left my sadness strolled out on the village square
A dozen slant roof buildings, streetlights small a lonely few
Good thing I'll be gone by nightfall, troubling thoughts of Deja Vu
Found a young trustworthy man, did not like this place at all
Shared his thoughts drew me a map, warned me of the danger spots
Brought me in the rumor mill, found my interest growing still,
he'll tell no more but Zadok will
96 years in this town, he had seen what none go near
Bring him drink to grease his tongue, stranger tales you'll never hear
Took my leave and wandered forth streets alone deserted town
Architecture angles wrong, attic windows shuttered down
Puzzled and disturbing blight, furtive glances, secret rights
Zadok Allan in my sights
|
||||
4. |
||||
IV
Follow me to a deserted spot and tell me all the crazy things you thought
Forgive me if I don't believe or act as if I can see through this hazy
disturbed lies people say define your life
Now we settle in our lonely spot and tell your story show me what you got
Forgive me if I don't believe or act as if I can see through this hazy
disturbed lies people say define your life
V
Captain Obed South sea islands, trinket trades for solid gold
Where it came from, no one's asking, sacrifice their very soul
Back in Innsmouth, times were trying, prayers unanswered, faith was weak
Obed Marsh he brought the saviours swimming off that Devil's Reef
Townsfolk start to disappearing fishing booms and gold abounds
Smart folks fearing Devil dealing Obed's followers jail bound
Moonlight ocean filled with creatures jailbreaking night of knives
Now the town will mix with daemons worship Dagon, never die
Truth be told the worst is coming sea invasion turnabout
Zadok screaming death to all men, they now know I've spoken out
VI
Who's that knocking at my door?
Who's that knocking at my door?
Who's that knocking at my door?
Salt water splashes the hall floor
Who's that knocking at my door?
Who's that knocking at my door?
Who's that knocking at my door?
Salt water splashes the hall floor
No time to waste no time to fear pack my bags get outta here I bolted all adjacent doors but they have brought the 2 x 4's got to reach a window soon breaking noise disturb the gloom heading north from room to room facing death and certain doom finally found an open glass here the chasers coming fast soon I see them coming down watch the roof and check the town their on to me a search will start find a skylight clamber in darkness falls around my skin!
In the dark, in the dust, I'll find a way out I trust
There's a door to the street hug the shadows, move discreet
Sneak away door to door, search party predators
VII
My map won't help this morning flight, I move out by instinct hoping I'm right
I wind and roam dead streets and lanes
don't dare to look back if they have gained
Finally I gave in and could not resist, looking to Devil's reef shrouded in mist
For what I saw haunts and attracts me still
The ocean alive and daemon filled
The throng did hunt for my escape, and what I learned of their townscape
So now I run along a route, abandoned railway evading pursuit
But still they gained, I kept my head, planned I did
Jumped in the brambles and there deep I hid
My head was down, made no sound there with my eyes shut tight
The mob was approaching and passed me right by
I had to see aware of the trajedy, fearful of madness
but still I was bold
The hideous swarm of bleating and froglike forms
I silently screamed and fainted out cold
The next day I awoke at noon somehow not insane
I walked the tracks to Arkham took a bus and then a train
The Boston FBI I found receptive to my tale
They later raided Innsmouth took the locals off to jail
Couple years passed without thought of Innsmouth or the look
Then dreams began to haunt my nights, I found a dusty book
of family history photographs and names of those before
Some family treasures of the past and relatives no more
Seems my great-great grandfather was captain Obed Marsh
His wife's repulsive gold tiara now just seemed bizarre
My nightly dreams of watery depths grow stronger day by day
While gazing in my mirror shows the blood I cannot change
I feel a strong regret and fear for actions I have done
But all will be forgiven when to Innsmouth I return
And swim out to that Devil's Reef, and dive the black abyss
to join my deep ones dwelling in eternal ocean bliss...
|
Mutiny in Jonestown Washington
Influenced by classic 70's progressive rock bands like King Crimson, Van Der Graaf Generator & Genesis - along with late
60's psychedelia from The Beatles, Procol Harum & Pink Floyd (with a little 70's Black Sabbath thrown in for good measure), Mutiny in Jonestown has always sought to take these influences and synthesize them into something new.
The band has released 42 albums since 1987.
... more
Streaming and Download help
If you like Mutiny in Jonestown, you may also like:
Bandcamp Daily your guide to the world of Bandcamp