How weird your after me and you use back to the future!!

You know this experience.
She's got a face that's a '4' and perfect athletic muscle tone that's a '10' everywhere else.
And unbidden you have a revolutionary uprising in your system.

6-22-2024 10:30am : the mastered file has been altered to have the awkward 2 second gap after "modus vivendi" removed.

Lyrics:

She's got a great face for philosophy
Though occasionally we disagree
About the nature of reality
That's well and good, but as far as I can see
Right now she's barking up the wrong tree


You can't make guacamole without an alligator pear
There was an offputting vibe in her blank stare
That would be sniffed out most anywhere
So it's a good thing we were still in her lair


I'd bet an eleven pound slab of deli ham
That before we started this conceptual jam
She'd engaged in a futile attempt to cram
For her turgid instructor's last exam


What's coalescing into certainty
Is that for a very, very modest fee
She'd hired an expert, and that was namely me
To solve her conundrum logically

Suddenly her speech took off like a rocket
As if fire had lit her nature's pocket
The time had come for me 
to ferret out 
what her idea was of modus vivendi

She thought she'd picked the ideal man
Without my stunning dungeon tan
But like Riker's leg, he'd jumped the couch
And anyway had proved an unworkable grouch
So she'd seen that it was high time for her to flee

The confidence of a yogurt male
Apparently had seriously begun to pale
In relation to my questionable rummage sale
Of attributes which in sordid detail
She then harshly listed out for me

I listened with almost perfect pretendance
In the center of her floordrobe's gritty resplendence
To her very clearly imperfect remembrance
Of my shining virtuosity

First came Parmenides with his hatred of beans
She explained while tugging manically on her tattered jeans
But when the ancients went to tell us what that really means
It fell to Zeno to breach the veil with paradoxical schemes

She said I had a knack for unlocking the past 
And proceeded to say a thing that left me aghast
My performance, she said, could consistently outclass
Yogurt guy's dismal grasp of themes

Reaching to the era of scholasticism
She said Albertus Magnus fueled her cynicism
And she'd ditched her robust specimen of hirsutism
When he'd proved to be not worthy of esteem

aliquod ex nihilo
inpensam quod punctilio
quamvus genus arietibus
da pauper puella, alea dis

(something out of nothing
I'm counting on that point
although she kind of rants
Give the poor girl a chance)

In a sudden gush of of words she turned hysterical
And with what seemed to me to be a miracle
Rattled on about how this led into empirical
Conclusions that David Hume had cast abeam

She's got a great face for philosophy
But the rest of her form, believe you me
Would grace the annals of human physiognomy
And that just might be enough, we'll just have to see

She's Got A Great Face For Philosophy

This song is based on an esoteric understanding about the cymatic, sacred geometrical processes of the creation of life.

Words, vocals and art: Annie Dieu-Le-Veut
© Copyright, Annie Dieu-Le-Veut, June 2024

Music: Paul Foss
© Copyright, Paul Foss Music, June 2024

WORDS: 

Deep in the darkest unfathomed depths, 
Crooning a lullaby under the waves. 
She spins the most elegant, beautiful 
Crystalline forms, from the tone of her voice  
And hangs them on chandeliers along the staves. 

She is the Moon Mother, the mistress of the tides 
And not just those that rise and fall on the seas.
She's the muse too, of the silent tides of our lives,
Creating through her songs cymatic forms 
To direct our souls, our dreams and our destinies. 

Since Time began, She has woven, waiting, 
Rocking to sleep her tiny creations, 
Forming and reforming, shaping and reshaping 
Her spiralling ammonites into manifestation.

In the heaving dark rhythm of Her endless patience
There's a cornucopia of Her seminal visions, 
Held in Her womb of amniotic waters, 
Birthed in the firmamental seas of the matrix 
Along the dark belt of the Magna Mater, 
And nurtured in the star cradle of the Creatrix. 

We find, in the algebra of her lattice symphonies
A doorway to the mysteries of creation itself. 
Constellations of life...waiting to spin 
Through the liminal walls, at Her behest, 
This eternal dance of the hours, in lemniscate.

Moon Dreams

Back To My Youth (STBB 325)

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Back To My Youth (STBB 325)

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