Daye 110 / 17th February

Daye 109 / The Psykick Sea

the psykick sea
is coming over me
and from the moment my head
was penetrated
by the storm
i wished that i had taken
on this form sooner
though my ears cannot hear for ringing
and you say to me
ah, that is the seasickness
and it will last forever
you are at the psykick sea

the psykick sea
is coming over me
and from the moment
your bony little finger
pushed itself into my hide
well, i knew that i must fly
and you could show me mountains
and you could show me the backside of the moon
you could show me the stars
you could show me the shadows
you could show me the deep ice
you could show me the vampires and the lice
you could show me the up and the down
you could show me the nowhere
you could show me the nightmares
you could show me the angels
you could show me the wondering
you could show me the pearls
you fill me with lust
you could show me the thrust
you could show me the thrust
show me the thrust

Daye 108 / Theme From The Big White House

you know i told you
that most of the last album
was recorded whilst we were
in our beds
oh, you didn't know?
well it's was!
we are continuing to record
in this manner
as it makes for a really relaxed atmosphere
and anyway it's snowing outside again
and as brion cannot afford to turn on the heating
recording in bed is the only way to keep warm
in the big white house

we are making lots of noises
and having fun in the process
we have all agreed
not to listen to any other music
for the whole of this month
but i am finding it hard
to cut myself off!
to help me remember
k has stuck a yellow post-it note
to the lid of my laptop
the note says 'no outside influences'

some of us have travelled away from C.o.M.
for the remainder of the winter
(the tft are in wales)
but we are continuing to record via the internet
song-parts disappear into the ether
and then reappear here
in a different form
my job today is to put all of these parts back together
without knowing the original intentions of the others
yeah, sometimes it mightn't work
but you won't hear those bits will ya
not all of 'em anyway
occasionally i might edit a bit of a failed xperiment
into a finished recording
just to be perverse says harin
(a couple of these appear
on 'there was a crack')

this morn hitch emailed me from cerrig-y-drudion
to tell me that today's theme is 'time'
(surprise surprise)
so any song-parts that arrive here today
will have to have the timing messed about with
or 'compromised' as lucy likes to call it
yesterday's theme was 'freeze'
chosen by under-leary
and tomorrow's theme is 'the colour blue'
as chosen by aurora

Daye 107 / The Lady Of Shalott

on either side the river lie
long fields of barley and of rye
that clothe the wold and meet the sky
and thro' the field the road runs by
to many-tower'd camelot
and up and down the people go
gazing where the lilies blow
round an island there below
the island of shalott

willows whiten
aspens quiver
little breezes dusk and shiver
thro' the wave that runs for ever
by the island in the river
flowing down to camelot.
four gray walls and four gray towers
overlook a space of flowers
and the silent isle imbowers
the lady of shalott

by the margin
willow veil'd
slide the heavy barges trail'd
by slow horses
and unhail'd
the shallop flitteth silken-sail'd
skimming down to camelot
but who hath seen her wave her hand?
or at the casement seen her stand?
or is she known in all the land
the lady of shalott?

only reapers
reaping early
in among the bearded barley
hear a song that echoes cheerly
from the river winding clearly
down to tower'd camelot
and by the moon the reaper weary
piling sheaves in uplands airy
listening
whispers " 'tis the fairy
lady of shalott."

***

there she weaves by night and day
a magic web with colours gay
she has heard a whisper say
a curse is on her if she stay
to look down to camelot
she knows not what the curse may be
and so she weaveth steadily
and little other care hath she
the lady of shalott

and moving thro' a mirror clear
that hangs before her all the year
shadows of the world appear
there she sees the highway near
winding down to camelot
there the river eddy whirls
and there the surly village-churls
and the red cloaks of market girls
pass onward from shalott

sometimes a troop of damsels glad
an abbot on an ambling pad
sometimes a curly shepherd-lad
or long-hair'd page in crimson clad
goes by to tower'd camelot
and sometimes thro' the mirror blue
the knights come riding two and two
she hath no loyal knight and true
the lady of shalott

but in her web she still delights
to weave the mirror's magic sights
for often thro' the silent nights
a funeral, with plumes and lights
and music
went to camelot
or when the moon was overhead
came two young lovers lately wed
"i am half sick of shadows" said
the lady of shalott

***

a bow-shot from her bower-eaves
he rode between the barley-sheaves
the sun came dazzling thro' the leaves
and flamed upon the brazen greaves
of bold sir lancelot
a red-cross knight for ever kneel'd
to a lady in his shield
that sparkled on the yellow field
beside remote shalott

the gemmy bridle glitter'd free
like to some branch of stars we see
hung in the golden galaxy
the bridle bells rang merrily
as he rode down to camelot
and from his blazon'd baldric slung
a mighty silver bugle hung
and as he rode his armour rung
beside remote shalott

all in the blue unclouded weather
thick-jewell'd shone the saddle-leather
the helmet and the helmet-feather
burn'd like one burning flame together
as he rode down to camelot
as often thro' the purple night
below the starry clusters bright
some bearded meteor, trailing light
moves over still shalott

his broad clear brow in sunlight glow'd
on burnish'd hooves his war-horse trode
from underneath his helmet flow'd
his coal-black curls as on he rode
as he rode down to camelot
from the bank and from the river
he flash'd into the crystal mirror
"tirra lirra," by the river
sang sir lancelot.

she left the web, she left the loom
she made three paces thro' the room
she saw the water-lily bloom
she saw the helmet and the plume
she look'd down to camelot
out flew the web and floated wide
the mirror crack'd from side to side
"the curse is come upon me" cried
the lady of shalott

***

in the stormy east-wind straining
the pale yellow woods were waning
the broad stream in his banks complaining
heavily the low sky raining
over tower'd camelot
down she came and found a boat
beneath a willow left afloat
and round about the prow she wrote
the lady of shalott

and down the river's dim expanse
like some bold seer in a trance
seeing all his own mischance--
with a glassy countenance
did she look to camelot
and at the closing of the day
she loosed the chain
and down she lay
the broad stream bore her far away
the lady of shalott

lying robed in snowy white
that loosely flew to left and right--
the leaves upon her falling light--
thro' the noises of the night
she floated down to camelot
and as the boat-head wound along
the willowy hills and fields among
they heard her singing her last song
the lady of shalott

heard a carol
mournful
holy
chanted loudly
chanted lowly
till her blood was frozen slowly
and her eyes were darken'd wholly
turn'd to tower'd camelot
for ere she reach'd upon the tide
the first house by the water-side
singing in her song she died
the lady of shalott

under tower and balcony
by garden-wall and gallery
a gleaming shape she floated by
dead-pale between the houses high
silent into camelot
out upon the wharfs they came
knight and burgher, lord and dame
and round the prow they read her name
the lady of shalott

who is this?
and what is here?
and in the lighted palace near
died the sound of royal cheer
and they cross'd themselves for fear
all the knights at camelot
but lancelot mused a little space
he said, "she has a lovely face
god in his mercy lend her grace
the lady of shalott"
~ Alfred Lord Tennyson

Daye 106 / Joe Meek