I told him
Sometimes, I am so, so lonely here
Waited for his warm reassurance
But instead he just plainly said,
Get used to it
You were never meant to follow
And I knew then
He was right
And I
was free
I told him
Sometimes, I am so, so lonely here
Waited for his warm reassurance
But instead he just plainly said,
Get used to it
You were never meant to follow
And I knew then
He was right
And I
was free
In different days and different waters
We Shamans would pass through Worlds
Now we’re just our Mother’s daughters
Untold stories rotting girls
In times of old Where Warriors Walked
Was known as Sacred Ground
We’ve lost the Native’s Way of Respect
Look what, instead, we’ve found —
We all go inward but not to ourselves
To shiny silver machines
Detached from the world around us
Let go the World of Dreams —
That now equate to “what’s achieved”
Instead of simply Listening —
Unfolding messages we receive
Within the Very Real Dreams
That nightly we are dreaming!
Oh, how I lament our great descent
The fall of Symbolic Meaning
Remember who you are Brave Souls
Fear not the Darkness gleaming
We Shamans lift our heavy shovels
Working with Collective Shadow
Almost beyond repair
Tell me, friend, about Your Shovel —
Does it show signs of wear?
In ancient days there was a place
For those who lived beyond life’s bounds
Those who dove to the darkest depths
And managed not to drown
In different days and different waters
We Shamans passed through Worlds
Now we’re just our Mother’s daughters
Untold stories rotting girls