10. A Reason Unseen 
“A Marvelous Method of Reclusion”
Music by PelleK and Steve Brockmann
Words by George Andrade 
©2016  
 
Typewritten sheet found folded and tucked away in Pelle’s journal:

A reason unseen in a dream waiting to be dreamed 
cries out from the withered husk of this man, 
unremembered and buried on a shoal of memory: 
 
a little boy lost in a distant tide of time run aground 
clutches his covers and prays in the night, 
sings a soft song for his mother and an imagined friend. 
 
A self-imposed view through the space between the bars  
of who we are and who we think we are 
reveals all that remains to be seen in the windows to his soul; 
 
and now separated still, incapable of fight or flight, 
he chooses to detach, disengage and  
disappear once again in his marvelous method of reclusion. 


A Reason Unseen

9. The Master of Reclusion 
“A Marvelous Method of Reclusion” 
PelleK Music
Andrade Words
©2016 
 
Typewritten sheet found folded and tucked away in Pelle’s journal:

He creeps through the dark cells of my soul. I hear my chains keyed, collapse and clatter and I am pulled, swept up from the floor on ties that bind me – I am a puppet! 
 
I am hoisted and hung out, dangled in a cold spotlight. No cheering, no applause. I cry out, numb, but no one can hear; I’m all alone and suspended in secret. 
 
He shows me, in the distance, a city I know that’s all aglow yet hollow. I’m thrust out, swung, drawn through the streets - a silent, sad show performing for no one. 
 
He is the one! He is the man who’s been pulling the strings all this time. Who can he be? I’m the puppet and he is the master of it all! 
 
He tied them all. He strung them all. He pulled them. He pulled them tightly. He pulled them unseen. He pulled them always. 
 
Him! 
It’s him! 
It’s been him! 
Only him! 
 
Emerging from reclusive corners come all the lies that have been my life, forming shadow faced people reaching for me, arms out trailing their strings – they are all puppets! 
 
Then his face in their eyes appears in the cold spotlight, distorted and drowning. Oh no, please whisper reason to me! It’s my face there reflected and staring! 
 
I am the one! I am the man who’s been pulling the strings all this time. How can this be? I’m the puppet and I am the master of it all! 
 
I tied them all. I strung them all. I pulled them. I pulled them tightly. I pulled them unseen. I pulled them always. 

Me.
(It’s me)
(It’s been me)
Only me.


The Master Of Reclusion

8. All That I Am 
"A Marvelous Method of Reclusion" 
PelleK Music
Andrade Words
©2016 

far worse to be seen …  
(unseen) 	
deep sadness permeates me.   
(consumes me) 
  
oh, why i succumbed to the ways  
(the dark weather days) 	
that emptied me.	
(carried me away)
  
who i thought i am, 
the path i chose to go, 
is lost in this fog closing in.
(with a man I don’t know)	
 
all that i am, 
all that i know, 
all the things that matter most,
(to me) 
every little hope, 
every little wish, 
imprisoned inside here with me!
(and the man I don’t know)
  
far worse to be dreamed …
(undreamed)  
deep paralysis sedates me.  
(entombs me) 
 	
oh, why i heeded the voice  
(grew numb to the choice) 
that deadened me.
(buried me away)
                           
who i really am, 
the path i need to go,  
is lost in this fog closing in.
(with a man I don’t know) 

all that i am, 
all that i know,  
all the things that matter most,
(to me)
every little hope, 
every little wish, 
crying out from inside here with me! 
(and the man I don’t know)
 
oh, i know 
i won’t ever know, 
(can’t ever)
not when i’m this way.
(every single day) 	
my heart absorbs the pain.
  
oh, i know
i can’t live this way,  
(reclusive here)
surrendered day to day.
(I am all I am)
all that i know,
  
i must go.


All That I Am

7. Whispers 
“A Marvelous Method of Reclusion” 
PelleK Music
Andrade Words
©2016 
 
i don’t know 
this dark voice 
between 
(me)
 
i don’t know 
this unseen voice 
in 
(me)

(no!)

slow poison 
withering me 
from 
(me)

(I can’t take no more!)

i’m in fear of 
what it 
(says)
 
i'm in fear of 
what it 
(wants)

(oh, not again!)

(I’m here again!)

(time run aground and the ghosts of lost faces beset me!)

(leave her!)
(leave him!) 
(leave them!)
 
(take it!)
(drink it!) 
(do it!)

(cut it!) 
(hide it!) 
(do it!) 

(do it!)
(do it!)
(do it!)

(do IT!)
(DO it!)
(DO IT!) 


Whispers

6. The Space Between 
“A Marvelous Method of Reclusion” 
PelleK Music
Andrade Words
©2016  
 
i’m found here  
(between the lines)
living in parenthesis. 
(unseen) 

here i am. 

let me qualify 
(the need to falsify) 
(how you see me) 
who i choose to be. 
 
here i stand. 

need to amplify 
(the deeds that glorify) 
(how you see me) 
who i want to be. 
 
the space between 
 
the space between 
 
the space between 
 
the space between 
 
here i hide. 
 
let me rectify 
(in ways that gentrify) 
(how you see me) 
who i seem to be. 

here i go. 

interrupt the flow 
(to keep me in the know) 
(how you see me) 
who i’ll never be:

(space unseen) 

(space unseen)

(I’m an afterthought)
 
my interpretive life.

the space between 
 
the space between  
 
the space between 
 
the space between  
(me)
(unseen) 
the space between 
 
the space between  
 
the space between 
 
the space between  
 
the space between 
 
the space between  
 
the space between 
 
the space between  
 
the space between 
 
the space between  
 
the space between 
 
the space between 


The Space Between

Intermezzo (Instrumental)

4. In Windows 
“A Marvelous Method of Reclusion” 
PelleK Music
Andrade Words
©2016  

I should go 
outside this window 
(I don’t know)
these days 
I don’t know 
(always)
I don’t remember 

(don’t seem to care) 
 
windows 
waiting for the rain 
our eyes betray the pain 
in windows, we wait for rain 

we should go 
outside our windows 
(we don’t know)
most days 
we don’t know 
(always)
we don’t remember 

windows 
waiting for the rain 
we cannot hide the pain 
in windows, we wait for rain 
 
windows 
shadowed by the rain 
we live behind the pain 
in windows 
 
we watch and we wait 
(we don’t go)
we step back inward 

(inward) 
 
windows 
waiting for the rain 
reveal all that remains 
in windows, we wait for rain 

windows 
shadowed by the rain 
reflect our self-disdain 
in windows 

windows 
(we hind behind)
our windows 
(we wait in)
windows
  
(windows) 


In Windows

3. I Know You Don’t Know
“A Marvelous Method of Reclusion” 
PelleK Music
Andrade Words
©2016  

Good day. 
Good play.
“Okay, if you say so”

Good news. 
Good weather. 
“So you say, okay”

Quite spectacular and strange this world 
that unfolds in front of me. 
I live in the husk of this man.
I know you don’t know. 
 
I’ll dream the day away
(detached)
disengaged, in a world all my own.

Reclusive method refined, 
(hiding) 
the weight of my darkened soul. 
 
Oh no, my morose musings! 
(not again)
Oh no, please whisper reason to me! 
 
Good job.
Good deal. 
“Okay, if you say so”

Good plan.
Good reason. 
“So you say, okay”

Quite spectacular and strange my world 
that unfolds inside of me. 
I live in the husk of this man.
I know you don’t know. 

I’ll dream the day away
(detached)
disengaged, in a world all my own.

Reclusive method refined,
(hiding) 
the weight of my darkened soul. 
 
Oh, not again!
(not again)  
Not again!

(here again)


I Know You Don't Know

Back From Being Gone

At the top of the world, on the northern coast of the Norwegian Sea, in a small port village cradled at the end of a deep fjord, a man enters a long white corridor and sits alone in front of a doctor’s door that is closed. At the far end of the hall, high up on the wall, the second hand of a silent clock sweeps away the minutes. The man looks down at his hands.

He is and always has been a municipal clerk, a man who has recorded the permits and deeds, the marriages and divorces, the births and deaths in this small county since he was young and thought himself fortunate to have landed such a secure job; he has dutifully recorded and stamped the events of other peoples’ lives while failing to live his own.

In the winter, he lost the one woman who had loved him in spite of himself, the only woman who never required a hero in him. He buried her in the cold arctic stone of his ancestors, high in a windswept cemetery as old and rough as the myths they contained. When he returned to work he found her death certificate waiting on his desk, to which he affixed the official seal as he routinely had for the dead in the past. He then signed her off and quietly filed the document away, as was his job.

And now as dusk approaches, the door in front of him opens. He enters to receive the news that he had always known was coming, the confirmation of his heart’s secret whispers in the dark, the end game of his slow descent since his wife’s death. Time was short.

Father:
A delicate wind graces my hair –
a shiver from the silent fear.
One last breath for bravery … 
crystals of salt and sand inhaled as I embark on this journey.

Daughter:
This changes everything -
a whole new life, a whole new world!
Let’s sail beyond the horizon - 
there is so much more!

Father:
Let's begin …

I worked as I was told to
Cataloged the days
Certified events here
Permits and deeds they all came from me

I lived as I was told to
Counting off the days
Paid my bills on time here
Dared not to dream too much in my sleep
	
In my life
Never someone like her to understand me – 
no hero to take her far away from this place.
She loved me as best she could and did not ask me why.
I buried her and quietly filed her away.

I did what I was told to
Heeded all the rules
Fell in line in place here
Watched what I said with nothing to say

I felt what I was told to
Turned the other way
Swallowed all my years here
Smiled through the days as my life slipped away
	
All my life
Never caring to see what’s beyond me.
My heart is buried deep in the stone of this land …
My daughter took good care and did not ask me why.
She’s with me now to quietly sail me away.

What is life?
Was I living a life of illusion? 
With pencil and stamp I marked the lives lived before me
Old waters and mountains are new in this dying man’s eyes
My daughter is my guide and will show me the way

Ocean of Opportunity

Prognosis / Elucidation

Story & Concept Development, Narratives & Lyrics: Pellek ("A Marvelous Method of Reclusion" 2016 / "Ocean of Opportunity" 2013); Story, Book & Lyrics, Producer: Brockmann/Andrade ("AIRS - A Rock Opera" & "TBA 2018" - Fencesound); Concept & Lyrics, Executive Producer: The ANABASIS ("Back From Being Gone" - 10t Records & "TBA 2018")

george andrade - lyricist