From a young age, the lyrics of Peter Gabriel from Genesis struck me as deep, magical, and even sometimes profound. Yes, yes, it’s “prog-rock” (people through that at me like some dirty word) but there is something to be said for elegance through words.
After a recent DMT trip, I listened to “The Lamia” during a come-down, and the lyrics echoed deep for me. I thought to myself, "This song...it's me!" Certainly the lyrics depict a transformative experience, perhaps not so different from the one I am experiencing now. Maybe I was reminiscing about being a child, maybe I discovered another meaning to attach to the words.
“Language arts” – never understood that term either until I was older, but it now bears new meaning for me. Words are my canvas, maybe for others it is this way for you too. Just thought I’d share
[Rael touches his face to confirm that he is still alive. He writes death off as an illusion, but notices a thick musky scent hanging in the air. He moves to the corner where the scent is stronger, discovering a crack in the rubble through which it is entering. He tries to shift the stones and eventually clears a hole large enough to crawl out of. The perfume is even stronger on the other side and he sets off to find its source, with a new-found energy.]
The scent grows richer; he knows he must be near.
He finds a long passageway lit by chandelier.
Each step he takes, the perfumes change from familiar fragrance to flavours strange.
A magnificent chamber meets his eye.
[He finally reaches a very ornate pink-water pool. It!
He finally reaches a very ornate pink-water pool; it is lavishly decorated with gold fittings.
The walls around the pool are covered with a maroon velvet up which honeysuckle is growing. From out of the mist on the water comes a series of ripples.]
Inside, a long rose-water pool is shrouded by fine mist.
Stepping in the moist silence, with a warm breeze he's gently kissed.
Thinking he is quite alone, he enters the room as if it were his own
But ripples on the sweet pink water reveal some company unthought of.
Rael stands astonished doubting his sight, struck by beauty, gripped in fright;
Three vermilion snakes of female face, the smallest motion, filled with grace.
Muted melodies fill the echoing hall, but there is no sign of warning in the siren's call: "Rael, welcome! We are the Lamia of the pool.
We have been waiting for our waters to bring you cool.”
[Three snake-like creatures are swimming towards Rael. Each reptilian creature has the diminutive head and breasts of a beautiful woman. His horror gives way to infatuation as their soft green eyes show their welcome. The Lamia invite him to taste the sweet water and he is quick to enter the pool. As soon as he swallows some liquid, a pale-blue luminescence drips off from his skin. The Lamia lick the liquid; very gently as they begin, with each new touch, he feels the need to give more and more.]
Putting fear beside him, he trusts in beauty blind.
He slips into the nectar, leaving his shredded clothes behind.
With their tongues, they test-taste and judge all that is mine.
They move in a series of caresses that glide up and down my spine.
[They knead his flesh until his bones appear to melt, and at a point at which he feels he cannot go beyond, they nibble at his body. Taking in the first drops of his blood, their eyes blacken and their bodies are shaken. Distraught with helpless passion, he watches as his lovers die. In a desperate attempt to bring what is left of them into his being, he takes and eats their bodies, and struggles to leave his lovers' nest.]
As they nibble the fruit of my flesh, I feel no pain,
Only a magic that a name would stain.
With the first drop of my blood in their veins, their faces are convulsed in mortal pains.
The fairest cries, “We all have loved you, Rael."
Each empty snake-like body floats,
Silent sorrow in empty boats.
A sickly sourness fills the room;
The bitter harvest of a dying bloom,
Looking for motion I know I will not find.
I stroke the curls now turning pale in which I'd lain entwined.
"O’ Lamia, your flesh that remains I will take as my food;
It is the scent of garlic that lingers on my chocolate fingers.”
Looking behind me, the water turns icy-blue
The lights are dimmed and once again the stage is set for you.
Lyrics from: “The Lamia”, by Genesis, from the album “The Lamb Lies Down on Broadway”