1. |
collapsed
03:00
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2. |
gyres
04:08
|
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3. |
awaken
03:54
|
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4. |
meager
02:24
|
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5. |
shadows
04:55
|
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6. |
W.B. Yeats
03:09
|
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7. |
Jan. 1919
07:32
|
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Turning and turning in the widening gyre
The falcon cannot hear the falconer;
Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;
Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,
The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Are full of passionate intensity.
Surely some revelation is at hand;
Surely the Second Coming is at hand.
The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out
When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi
Troubles my sight: somewhere in sands of the desert
A shape with lion body and the head of a man,
A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,
Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it
Reel shadows of the indignant desert birds.
The darkness drops again, but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
|
ephemeral Knoxville, Tennessee
adam / bass
ben / guitar
cale / keys
denney / drums
-----------------------
knox post rock
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