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Meaning spring in Latin, "Ver" was created using short recordings of my own voice, layered and manipulated in such a way as to create a sense of calm and to evoke scenes of the transition from the darkness of winter in the light of spring. these short recordings where processed using a cassette recorder and then arranged in order to produce flowing harmonic sequence with interlocking rhythmic motion. it's a little rough around the edges with some slight timing drift but I don't care :p

Recorded and produced on the 15th of April 2024. Visuals to follow...

Ver (Vocal Abstraction - 003)

[Verse 1]

We were children in the shadows of the Eden trees,
Playing in the sunlight, praying on our knees.
But the Serpent held the lantern, and he whispered of the "Price,"
That "Knowledge" is the ending of a stagnant Paradise.
Eve reached for the "Fertile Seed," she took the Apple’s bite,
And traded "Innocence" for the "Power of the Light."
It wasn't "Sin" that woke her—it was the "Call to Build,"
The "Holy Architect" with the "Womb" of God fulfilled.

[Verse 2]

He was the "Dust" and the "Hammer," a sketch upon the sand,
Until God carved the "Chalice" from the "Side" of the man.
The "Missing Link" of "Mercy," the "Emotion" in the bone,
The "Holy Architecture" that the "Father" left alone.
For man is just a "Word," but a woman is the "Breath,"
The "Portal" that defeats the finality of death.
They fear the "Gateway" where the "Holy Spirits" rest,
A "Power" and a "Kingdom" that a man can never quest.

[Verse 3]

And for the "Sisters of the Silence," whose "Garden" stays at rest,
You are not the "Empty Field"—you are the "Sabbath" at its best.
You carry "Heaven’s Wisdom" where the "Flesh" has never trod,
A "Pillar" in the "Holy Place," the "Quiet Breath" of God.
For a "Child" can be a "Vision," and a "Seed" can be a "Truth,"
You are "Holy" in your "Wisdom" just as "Holy" as your "Youth."
The "Spirit" doesn't need a "Skin" to find its way to "Earth,"
You are "Birthing Revelation" in a "Holy Sacred Birth."

[Verse 4]

You can "Nip" and "Tuck" the "Truth" until the "Temple" is a "Lie,"
But the "Sovereign" wears her "History" and she never asks "Why."
There are "Rivers" ripping over "Skin" where the "Glory" had to pass,
A "Flood of Living Water" that would shatter every "Glass."
See the "Lightning" on the "Thighs," see the "Storm" upon the "Womb,"
It’s the "Ripping of the Veil" that let the "Soul" escape the "Tomb."
Don't you "Call it Ugly," don't you "Dare to Call it Less,"
It’s the "Emptying of Heaven" in a "Silver Holy Dress."

[Chorus]

I am the Portal where the Spirit breathes life,
Not a "Bone for the Burden" or a "Servant to Strife."
My blood is the Altar, my body the Gate,
The "Holy Architect" they taught you to hate.
The "Garden" is open, the "Covenant" is thin,
I am the "Gospel" that’s written in skin.

Place your hand upon the "Altar," feel the "Vibration" in the "Deep,"
The "Secret of the Ages" that the "Pharisees" can't keep.
You are the "Host" of the "Heaven," the "Seat" of the "Throne,"
Birthing "Marrow" from the "Spirit" and "Flesh" from the "Bone."
Through every "Shedding," through every "Cry,"
The "Father" and the "Son" are born beneath your "Eye."

I am not a "Servant"!
I am the "Source"!
The "Gospel of the Garden" is taking its course!
I am mine.
I am His.
I am the Fire.

Psychobabble

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