The 5 poetic albums of The Incredible String Band headed by Robin Williamson and Mike Heron. Very much about consciousness, spiritual matters, Celtic mythology, and Buddhist-like views.
Sample herewith:
Maya (from The Big Huge, their last LP)
The dust of the rivers does murmur and weep
Hard and sharp laughter that cuts to the bone
Ah, but every face within your face does show
Going gladly now to give himself his own
And twelve yellow willows shall fellow the shallows
Small waves and thunder be my pillow
Upon the gleaming water two swans that swim
And every place shall be my native home
The east gate like a fortress dissolve it away
The west gate like a prison, oh, come break it down
Island, I remember, living here
Wandering beneath the empty skies
In time her hair grew long and swept the ground
And seven blackbirds carried it out behind
It bore the holy imprint of her mind
As green-foot slow, she moved among the seasons
The great man, the great man
Historians his memory
Artists, his senses, thinkers, his brain
Labourers, his growth, explorers, his limbs
And soldiers his death each second
And mystics his rebirth each second
Businessmen, his nervous system
No-hustle men his stomach
Astrologers, his balance, lovers, his loins
His skin it is all patchy
But soon will reach one glowing hue
God is his soul, infinity, his goal
The mystery, his source
And civilization, he leaves behind
Opinions are his fingernails
Maya, Maya, all this world is but a play
Be thou the joyful player
Maya, Maya, all this world is but a play
Be thou the joyful player
The wanderer no sense does make
His eyes being tied in the true love’s knot
The trees perceive his soul
Do not detain him long
Dear little animal, dark-eyed and small
Caring for your fur with pointed paws
This hawk of truth is swift and flies with a still cry
A small sweetmeat to the eyes of night
Oh, dandelion be thou thine
Reflecting the sun in sexual glory
In ever changing tongues
The ever-changing story
The book, man, bird, woman, serpent, sea, sun
Blessed, oh, blessed are they of the air
Your eyes, they are the eyes of the glad land
Ye twelve that will enter the seasons
The great ship, the ship of the world, long time sailing
Mariners, mariners, gather your skills
The great ship, the ship of the world, long time sailing
Mariners, mariners, gather your skills
Jesus and Hitler and Richard, the lion heart
Three kings and Moses and Queen Cleopatra
The cobbler, the maiden, the mender and the maker
The sickener and the twitcher and the glad undertaker
The shepherd of willows
The harper and the archer
All sat down in one boat together
Troubled voyage in calm weather
Maya, Maya, all this world is but a play
Be thou the joyful player
Maya, Maya, all this world is but a play…
…………………………………………………………….
My own songwriting trajectory was influenced by the sensibilities of The Incredible String Band as evidenced by this song lyric.
Seasons (A Celtic Fantasy)
No unicorns to follow
No princess left to save
The king looks o’er his wasted lands
With one foot in the grave
True magic is impossible
When Merlin just does tricks
To entertain his captor’s whims
And a curse he can’t unfix (ah-hoom…)
chorus:
O, the days have turned to months and fled
The years to centuries are wed
Generations count their dead
Seasons sew us like a thread
Webs ensnare the rainbow life
A child is borne away
To grow up in a foreign world
Another castaway
As harpies gaze at mortals’ flesh
Illusion stalks the stars
And witches bargain for the souls
Of victims from afar (ah-hoom…)
chorus:
O, the days have turned to months and fled
The years to centuries are wed
Generations count their dead
Seasons sew us like a thread
Eternity is lost at sea
The tides consume the ghosts
Of lovers passing like brave ships
That never reach the coast
The lilac wood is empty now
A prince has gone to pray
The dragon sleeps within his cave
The poets dream of May (ah-hoom…)
chorus:
O, the days have turned to months and fled
The years to centuries are wed
Generations count their dead
Seasons sew us like a thread
