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Elsewhere
we have described the Grateful Dead as an modern manifestation
of an
Afro-Diasporic
Cult of the Dead. The evolutionary history of African rhythms
becoming the foundational root of American Jazz and Blues, is
self-evident. Although this history is horrifically inexcusable, the
musical result is
spiritually joyous. Music has always played a profound role in
ritual... it is the language of the soul. Music manifests that
which is transcendent... transmitting it to the perceptive
faculties of the listener.
This
musical transcendence is articulated within the lyric element of
the composition. The spoken (or sung) word, in it's
densest form... ie: poetry or lyric... conveys large
quantities of information, in few words. This
information is emotive, as apposed to intellectual. It
speaks to the soul. Within the genre of psychedelic
rock, the Grateful Dead were (and are) masters at
articulating the ineffable. Their music provided a rich
medium in which the listener was invited to partake. The
lyrics of Robert Hunter, John P Barlow, et al... were
wonderfully descriptive, yet poetically sparse...
conjuring mythic imagery.
It
is right and fitting that these lyrical pearls be
written down for psychedelic prosperity. Before
proceeding, a word of caution. Like a mirror, the
following verse is reflective... any meaning derived is
a mere reflection in the eye of the beholder. It is just a box of rain… I don't
know who put it there… Believe it if you need it, or leave it, if you dare…
In
keeping with the spirit of the great Dead Archivist,
David Dodd
from his site at UC Santa Cruz... we
present the following in an annotated format. And now... on to selected
excerpts from the Book of the Dead...
Shall we
go, you and I while we can?
Through... the transitive nightfall of diamonds?
- R Hunter
Book
of the Dead according to Phil
Blue light rain, whoa,
unbroken chain.
Looking for familiar faces in an empty window pane.
Listening for the secret,
searching for the sound...
But I could only hear the preacher and the baying of his hounds.
Willow sky, whoa, I walk and wonder why?
They say
love your brother but you will catch it when you try.
Roll you down the line boy, drop you for a loss...
Ride out on a cold railroad and
nail you to a cross.
from
"Unbroken Chain" - B. Peterson & P. Lesh
What do you want me to do? To do for
you… To see you through?
A box of rain will ease the pain and love will see you through.
Just a
box of rain… wind and water…
Believe it if you need it, if you don't just pass it on.
Sun and shower… Wind and rain…
In and out the window like a
moth before a flame.
It's just a box of rain… I don't
know who put it there…
Believe it if you need it or leave it if you dare…
But it's just a box of rain or a ribbon for your hair…
Such a long-long time to be gone and a
short time to be there.
from
"Box of Rain" - R. Hunter & P. Lesh
Passenger... Don't you hear
me?
Destination... seen unclearly...
What is a man...
Deep down inside?
But a
raging beast... with nothing to hide!
Upside out... or inside down.
False alarm... the only game in town.
No man's land... the only game in town.
Terrible...
The only game in town.
from "Passenger" -
Phil Lesh & Peter Monk
Book
of the Dead according to Bobbie
My time coming, any day... don't worry
bout me, no...
It's gonna be just like they say...
them voices tell me so.
Seems so long I felt this way and time sure passin' slow...
My time coming, any day, don't worry about me, no...
Don't worry about me... no, no... don't
worry about me, no...
California!.. A
prophet on the burning
shore.
California... I'll be knocking on the golden door.
Like an angel, standing in a shaft of light... rising up to
paradise... I know I'm gonna shine...
You've all been asleep! You would not
believe me!
Them voices telling me... you will soon receive me!
We're standing on the beach,
the sea
will part before me!
(Fire wheel burning in the air)
And you will follow me... and we will rise to glory!
(Way up the middle of the air)
And I'll
call down thunder and speak
the same!
And my word fills the sky with flame!
And might and glory gonna be my name!
And men gonna light my way...
from "Estimated
Prophet" -
J.P. Barlow & R. Weir
Then God way up in heaven,
for whatever it was worth,
Thought He'd have a
big old party, thought He'd call it planet
Earth.
Don't worry about tomorrow, Lord, you'll know it
when it comes,
When the rock and rollin' music meets the risin'
shinin' sun.
Hey, u-huh... One more
Saturday night!
from "One
more Saturday night" -
R. Weir
When that wind
blows... And the darkness starts to fall... I can hear the
sirens
call...
It's a certain sort of sound... In the rain fallin' down...
Rain fallin' down...
Holes in what's left of my
reason... Holes in the knees of my blues,
Odds against me been increasin'... But I'll pull through.
Never could read no road map... And I don't know what the weather might
do,
But hear that witch wind whinin'... See that
Dog Star shinin'... I've got a feelin' there's no time to lose...
No time to lose!
from "Lost
Sailor" -
J.P. Barlow & R. Weir
Yet sometimes at night I dream…
He's still that
hairy man.
Shadowboxing the Apocalypse and wandering the land.
Shadowboxing the
Apocalypse... and wandering the land.
Esau holds a
blessing...
Brother Esau bears a curse.
I would say that the blame is mine, but I suspect it's
something worse.
The more my brother looks like me, the less I understand...
The silent war that bloodied both our hands.
Sometimes at night, I think I understand.
It's brother to brother and it's man to man
And it's face to face and it's
hand to hand...
We shadow-dance... the
silent war within.
The shadow-dance, it
never ends...
Never ends, never ends.
Shadowboxing the Apocalypse, yet again...
Yet again.
Shadowboxing the
Apocalypse,
And wandering the land.
from
"My Brother Esau" -
J.P. Barlow & R. Weir
Some folks trust in
Reason…others trust in might.
I don't trust in nothing... but I know it comes out right.
Say it once again now... Whoa, I hope you understand.
When it's done and over... lord, a man is just a man.
Playin...
playin in
the band.
Daybreak... daybreak on the land...
And if a man among you... got no sin
upon his hand.
Let him cast a stone at me for playing in the band.
from
"Playin' in the Band" -
J.P. Barlow & R. Weir
Shipping powders back and
forth...
black goes south and
white comes north.
In a whole world full of petty wars... Singing I
got mine and you got yours.
And the current fashion sets the pace... Lose
your step, fall out of grace.
And
the radical, he rant and rage... Singing
someone's got to turn the page.
And the rich man in his summer home... Singing
just leave well enough alone.
But his pants are down, his cover's blown...
And the politicians
throwin'
stones...
So the kids they dance and shake their bones...
cause it's all too clear we're on our own.
Singing ashes, ashes... all fall down.
Ashes, ashes, all fall
down.
from
"Throwing Stones" -
J.P. Barlow & R. Weir
Book
of the Dead according to
Jerry
Well the first days are the hardest
days...
don't you worry anymore.
Cause when life looks like
easy street...
there is danger at your door.
Think this through with me.
Let me know your mind.
Wo-oah, what I want to know...
is...
are you kind?
from "Uncle John's
Band" - R. Hunter & J. Garcia
Let my inspiration flow in token lines suggesting rhythm...
that will not forsake me till my tale is told and done.
While the firelight's aglow... strange shadows in the
flames will grow...
till things we've never seen will seem familiar...
~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
Inspiration!
Move me brightly.
Light the song with sense and
color, hold away despair.
More than this I will not ask... faced with
mysteries dark and vast.
Statements just seem vain at last.
Some rise... some fall... some climb... to get to
terrapin.
from "Terrapin Station" - R.
Hunter & J. Garcia
There is a road,
no simple highway.
Between the dawn and the dark of night.
And if you go no one may follow.
That path is for your steps alone.
Ripple...
In still water.
When there is no pebble tossed Nor wind to blow.
You who choose to lead must follow.
But if you fall you fall alone.
If you should stand then who's to guide you?
If I knew the way I would take you home.
from "Ripple" - R. Hunter &
J. Garcia
It's the same story the
crow told me.
it's the only one he knows.
like the morning sun you come...
and like the
wind you go...
from "Uncle John's
Band" - R. Hunter & J. Garcia
Saint
Stephen with a
rose... In and out of the garden he goes.
Country garland in the
wind and the rain... Wherever he goes the people
all complain.
Stephen prosper in his time... Well he may
and he may decline.
Did it matter? does it now? Stephen would answer
if he only knew how.
Wishing well with a golden
bell...
Bucket hanging clear to
hell.
Hell halfway twixt now and then... Stephen fill
it up and lower down...
And lower down again.
from "Saint
Stephen" - R. Hunter & J. Garcia
In another time's forgotten space...
your eyes looked through your mother's face.
Wildflower seed on the sand and stone... may the
four winds
blow you safely home.
Roll away... the dew . . .
Some come to laugh their past away... Some come to
make it just one more day.
Whichever way your pleasure tends... if you plant ice, you're going to
harvest wind.
Roll away... the dew . . .
from "Franklin's
Tower" - R. Hunter & J. Garcia
Went to see the captain, strangest I
could find,
Laid my proposition down, laid it on the line.
I won't slave for beggars pay, likewise
gold and jewels,
But I would slave to learn the way to
sink your
ship of fools.
It was
later than I thought
when I
first believed you,
Now I cannot share your laughter, ship of fools.
~ ~ ~
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The bottles stand as empty, as they
were filled before.
Time there was and plenty, but from that cup no more.
Though I could not caution all, I still might warn a few:
Don't
lend your hand to raise no
flag atop no ship of fools.
Ship of fools... on a cruel sea, ship
of fools... sail away from me.
It was later than I thought, when I first believed you,
Now I cannot share your laughter,
ship of fools...
from
"Ship of Fools" - R. Hunter & J. Garcia
There comes a
redeemer... and he slowly too fades away.
There follows a wagon behind him that's loaded with clay.
and the seeds that were silent all burst into bloom and decay
The night comes so quiet... and it's close on the heels of the
day
Wake up to find out that you are the
eyes of the World.
Sometimes we live no particular way
but our own.
Sometimes we visit your country and live in your home.
Sometimes we ride on your horses... Sometimes we walk alone.
Sometimes the songs that we hear are just songs of our own.
from "Eyes of
the World" - R. Hunter & J. Garcia
See here how everything... lead up to
this day
and it's just like any other day
that's... ever been
Sun goin up and then... the sun it goin down
Shine through my window... and my friends they come
around...
come around... come
around.
from "Black
Peter" - R. Hunter & J. Garcia
Haiku of the
Dead |
