Lyrics and Songs

Sometimes a Wild God

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine.

When the wild god arrives at the door,
You will probably fear him.
He reminds you of something dark
That you might have dreamt,
Or the secret you do not wish to be shared.

He will not ring the doorbell;
Instead he scrapes with his fingers
Leaving blood on the paintwork,
Though primroses grow
In circles round his feet.

You do not want to let him in.
You are very busy.
It is late, or early, and besides…
You cannot look at him straight
Because he makes you want to cry.

The dog barks.
The wild god smiles,
Holds out his hand.
The dog licks his wounds
And leads him inside.

The wild god stands in your kitchen.
Ivy is taking over your sideboard;
Mistletoe has moved into the lampshades
And wrens have begun to sing
An old song in the mouth of your kettle.

‘I haven’t much,’ you say
And give him the worst of your food.
He sits at the table, bleeding.
He coughs up foxes.
There are otters in his eyes.

When your wife calls down,
You close the door and
Tell her it’s fine.
You will not let her see
The strange guest at your table.

The wild god asks for whiskey
And you pour a glass for him,
Then a glass for yourself.
Three snakes are beginning to nest
In your voicebox. You cough.

Oh, limitless space.
Oh, eternal mystery.
Oh, endless cycles of death and birth.
Oh, miracle of life.
Oh, the wondrous dance of it all.

You cough again,
Expectorate the snakes and
Water down the whiskey,
Wondering how you got so old
And where your passion went.

The wild god reaches into a bag
Made of moles and nightingale-skin.
He pulls out a two-reeded pipe,
Raises an eyebrow
And all the birds begin to sing.

The fox leaps into your eyes.
Otters rush from the darkness.
The snakes pour through your body.
Your dog howls and upstairs
Your wife both exults and weeps at once.

The wild god dances with your dog.
You dance with the sparrows.
A white stag pulls up a stool
And bellows hymns to enchantments.
A pelican leaps from chair to chair.

In the distance, warriors pour from their tombs.
Ancient gold grows like grass in the fields.
Everyone dreams the words to long-forgotten songs.
The hills echo and the grey stones ring
With laughter and madness and pain.

In the middle of the dance,
The house takes off from the ground.
Clouds climb through the windows;
Lightning pounds its fists on the table.
The moon leans in through the window.

The wild god points to your side.
You are bleeding heavily.
You have been bleeding for a long time,
Possibly since you were born.
There is a bear in the wound.

‘Why did you leave me to die?’
Asks the wild god and you say:
‘I was busy surviving.
The shops were all closed;
I didn’t know how. I’m sorry.’

Listen to them:

The fox in your neck and
The snakes in your arms and
The wren and the sparrow and the deer…
The great un-nameable beasts
In your liver and your kidneys and your heart…

There is a symphony of howling.
A cacophony of dissent.
The wild god nods his head and
You wake on the floor holding a knife,
A bottle and a handful of black fur.

Your dog is asleep on the table.
Your wife is stirring, far above.
Your cheeks are wet with tears;
Your mouth aches from laughter or shouting.
A black bear is sitting by the fire.

Sometimes a wild god comes to the table.
He is awkward and does not know the ways
Of porcelain, of fork and mustard and silver.
His voice makes vinegar from wine
And brings the dead to life.

~by Tom Hirons – Poet and Storyteller
Art: Stephanie Carr Gromm

God Is Alive

God is alive; Magic is afoot
God is alive; Magic is afoot
God is afoot; Magic is alive
Alive is afoot…..
Magic never died.

God never sickened;
many poor men lied
many sick men lied
Magic never weakened
Magic never hid
Magic always ruled
God is afoot
God never died.

God was ruler
though his funeral lengthened
Though his mourners thickened
Magic never fled
Though his shrouds were hoisted
the naked God did live
Though his words were twisted
the naked Magic thrived
Though his death was published
round and round the world
the heart did not believe

Many hurt men wondered
many struck men bled
Magic never faltered
Magic always led.
Many stones were rolled
but God would not lie down
Many wild men lied
many fat men listened
Though they offered stones
Magic still was fed
Though they locked their coffers
God was always served.

2..

Magic is afoot. God rules.
Alive is afoot. Alive is in command.
Many weak men hungered
Many strong men thrived
Though they boasted solitude
God was at their side
Nor the dreamer in his cell
nor the captain on the hill
Magic is alive
Though his death was pardoned
round and round the world
the heart did not believe.

Though laws were carved in marble
they could not shelter men
Though altars built in parliaments
they could not order men
Police arrested Magic
and Magic went with them,
for Magic loves the hungry.

But Magic would not tarry
it moves from arm to arm
it would not stay with them
Magic is afoot
it cannot come to harm
it rests in an empty palm
it spawns in an empty mind
but Magic is no instrument
Magic is the end.

Many men drove Magic
but Magic stayed behind
Many strong men lied
they only passed through Magic
and out the other side
Many weak men lied
they came to God in secret
and though they left him nourished
they would not say who healed
Though mountains danced before them
they said that God was dead
Though his shrouds were hoisted
the naked God did live

3…

This I mean to whisper to my mind
This I mean to laugh with in my mind
This I mean my mind to serve
’til service is but Magic
moving through the world
and mind itself is Magic
coursing through the flesh
and flesh itself is Magic
dancing on a clock
and time itself the magic length of God.

Lyrics: Leonard Cohen
Sung by: Buffy St. Marie

Marie Laveau ~ Voodoo Queen

Now there lived a conjure-lady, not long ago
In New Orleans, Louisiana – named Marie Laveau
Believe it or not, strange as it seem
She made her fortune selling voodoo, and interpreting dreams

She was known throughout the nation as the Voodoo Queen
Folks come to her, from miles and miles around
She sure know how to put that, that voodoo down

To the voodoo lady they all would go
The rich, the educated, the ignorant and the poor
She’d snap her fingers, and shake her head
She’d tell them ’bout their lovers – livin’ or dead

Now an old, old lady named widow Brown
Asked why her lover, stopped comin’ around
The voodoo gazed at her and squawked
I seen him kissin’ a young girl, up at Shakespeare’s Park
Hanging on an oak tree, in the dark

Oh Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Oh Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen
From way down yonder in New Orleans

Ya, ya, ya – ya, ya, ya – ya, ya, ya – yaaaaa

Now old, old lady, she lost her speech
Tears start to rollin’ down her checks
Voodoo say, “Hush my darlin don’t you cry,”
I make him come back, by and by
Just sprinkle this snake dust, all over your floor
I’ll make him come back Friday mornin’, when the rooster crow

Now Marie Laveau she held em in her hand
New Orleans, Louisiana was her promised land
Quality folks, come from far and near
This wonder woman, for to hear
They was afraid to be seen, at her gate
They’d creep through the dark, just to hear their fate
Holdin’ dark veils, over their head
They would tremble to hear, what Maria would say

Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen
From way down yonder in New Orleans

Ya, ya, ya – ya, ya, ya – ya, ya, ya – yaaaaa

And she made gris-gris, with an old ram horn
Stuffed with feathers, shuck from a corn
A big black candle, and a catfish fin
She make a man get religion, and give up his sin

Sad news got out one mornin’, at the break of day
Marie Laveau had done pass away
St. Louis cemetery, she lay in her tomb
She was buried one night, on the wake of the moon

Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Oh Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
The folks still believe, in the Voodoo Queen
From way down yonder in New Orleans

Oh Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Oh Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen
From way down yonder in New Orleans

Marie, Marie Laveau, Oh Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, the Marie Laveau
Marie Laveau, the Voodoo Queen

~Music by Dr John

Zuni Sunrise Song

Face the rising sun as you chant, arms raised in greeting.

A he! Arise! Arise!
Rise! Arise! Arise!
Ah eh Wake Up!
Life is calling you.
Ah eh Wake up!
Life is greeting you.
Father sun God, he is calling you.
Father sun God, he is greeting you.

Ah eh ta ho t hey
Eh ta ho ta hey.
Ah ah eh ta ho
A ya he ta ne
Ah ah e ta ho
A ya he ta ne.
A ya a wey
O wey to na wey
A ya a wey
O wey to na wey.

From: Circle of Song

Farewell Song To Northland

As the years passed Wainamoinen
Recognized his waning powers,
Empty-handed, heavy-hearted,
Sang his farewell song to Northland,
To the people of Wainola;

Sang himself a boat of copper,
Beautiful his bark of magic;
At the helm sat the magician,
Sat the ancient wisdom-singer.

Westward, westward, sailed the hero
O’er the blue-back of the waters,
Singing as he left Wainola,
This his plaintive song and echo:

“Suns may rise and set in Suomi,
Rise and set for generations,
When the North will learn my teachings,
Will recall my wisdom-sayings,
Hungry for the true religion.
Then will Suomi need my coming,

Watch for me at dawn of morning,
That I may bring back the Sampo,

Bring anew the harp of joyance,
Bring again the golden moonlight,
Bring again the silver sunshine,
Peace and plenty to the Northland.”

~Kalevala / Rune 50 (John Martin Crawford translation)

Odin’s Rune Song

Rúnatal or Óðins Rune Song, Rúnatáls-þáttr-Óðins (stanzas 139-146) is a section of the Hávamál where Odin reveals the origins of the runes. In stanzas 139 and 140, Odin describes his sacrifice of himself to himself:

138.

I wot that I hung on the wind-tossed tree
all of nights nine,
wounded by spear, bespoken to Óthin,
bespoken myself to myself,
[upon that tree of which none telleth
from what roots it doth rise]

139.

Neither horn they upheld nor handed me bread;
I looked below me–
aloud I cried–
caught up the runes, caught them up wailing,
thence to the ground fell again.

140.

From the son of Bolthorn, Bestla’s father,
I mastered mighty songs nine,
and a drink I had, of the dearest mead,
got from out of Óthrærir.

141.

Then began I to grow and gain in insight,
to wax eke in wisdom:
One verse led on to another verse,
one poem led on to the other poem.

142.

Runes wilt thou find, and rightly read,
of wondrous weight,
of mighty magic,
which that dyed the dread God,
which that made the holy hosts,
and were etched by Óthin.

143.

Óthin among Æsir, for alfs, Dain,
Dvalin for the dwarfs,
Alsvith among etins, (but for earth-borne men)
wrought I some myself.

144.

Know’st how to write, know’st how to read,
know’st how to stain, how to understand,
know’st how to ask, know’st how to offer,
know’st how to supplicate, know’st how to sacrifice?

145.

‘Tis better unasked than offered overmuch;
for ay doth a gift look for gain;
’tis better unasked than offered overmuch:
thus did Óthin write ere the earth began,
when up he rose in after time.

146.

Those spells I know which the spouses of kings
wot not, nor earthly wight:
“Help” one is hight, with which holpen thou’lt be
in sorrow and care and sickness.

147.

That other I know which all will need
who leeches list to be:
(on the bark scratch them of bole in the woods
whose boughs bend to the east).

148.

That third I know, if my need be great
to fetter a foeman fell:
I can dull the swords of deadly foes,
that nor wiles nor weapons avail.

149

that fourth I know, if foemen have
fettered me hand and foot:
I chant a charm the chains to break,
so the fetters fly off my feet,
and off my hands the halter.

150.

That fifth I know, if from foemans’s hand
I see a spear sped into throng,
never so fast it flies but its flight I can stay,
once my eye lights on it.

151.

That sixth I know, if me someone wounds
with runes on gnarled root written,
or rouses my wrath by reckless speech:
him blights shall blast, not me.

152.

That seventh I know, if o’er sleepers’ heads
I behold a hall on fire:
however bright the blaze I can beat it down–
that mighty spell I can speak.

153.

That eighth I know which to all men is
needful, and good to know:
when hatred runs high, heroes among,
their strife I can settle full soon.

154.

That ninth I know: if need there be
to guard a ship in a gale,
the wind I can calm, and the waves also,
and wholly soothe the sea.

155.

That tenth I know, if night-hags sporting
I scan aloft in the sky:
I scare them with spells so they scatter abroad,
heedless of their hides,
heedless of their haunts.

156.

That eleventh I know, if I am to lead
old friends to the fray:
under buckler I chant that briskly they fare
hale and whole to battle,
hale and whole from battle:
hale where ever they are.

157.

That twelfth I know, if on tree I see
a hanged one hoisted on high:
thus I write and the runes I stain
that down he drops
and tells me his tale.

158.

That thirteenth I know if a thane’s son I shall
wet with holy water:
never will he fall, though the fray be hot,
nor sink down, wounded by sword.

159.

That fourteenth I know, if to folk I shall
sing and say of the Gods:
Æsir and alfs know I altogether–
of unlearned few have that lore.

160.

That know I fifteenth which Thjóthrærir sang,
the dwarf, before Delling’s door:
gave to Æsir strength, to alfs victory
by his song, and insight to Othin.

161.

That sixteenth I know, if I seek me some maid,
to work my will with her:
the white-armed woman’s heart I bewitch,
and toward me I turn her thoughts.

162.

That seventeenth I know, (if the slender maid’s love
I have, and hold her to me:
this I sing to her) that she hardly will
leave me for other man’s love.

163.

In this lore wilt thou, Loddfáfnir, be
unversed forever and ay:
thy weal were it, if this wisdom thine–
’tis helpful, if heeded,
’tis needful, if known.

164.

That eighteenth I know which to none I will tell,
neither maid nor man’s wife–
’tis best warded if but one know it:
this speak I last of my spells–
but only to her in whose arms I lie,
or else to my sister also.

165.

Now are Hár’s sayings spoken in Hár’s hall,
of help to the sons of men,
of harm to the sons of etins;
hail to whoever spoke them, hail to whoever knows them!
Gain they who grasp them,
happy they who heed them!

I Am The Mother

This is a great little chant to connect with the Goddess, the Elements.

I am the Air that shakes the trees,
I am the Mother.
I am the Air that shakes the trees
I am the Mother
I and the Air that shakes the trees,
Storming gale or gentle breeze.
I am the Air that shakes the trees,
I am the Mother.

I am the Fire burning bright,
I am the Mother.
I am the Fire burning bright,
I am the Mother.
I am the Fire burning bright,
Candle flame or noontime’s light.
I am the Fire burning bright,
I am the Mother.

I am the Water flowing deep,
I am the Mother.
I am the Water flowing deep,
I am the Mother.
I am the Water flowing deep,
Crystal pool or torrent’s leap.
I am the Water flowing deep,
I am the Mother.

I am the Earth standing strong,
I am the Mother.
I am the Earth standing strong,
I am the Mother.
I am the Earth standing strong
Caverns deep or hillsides long.
I am the Earth standing strong,
I am the Mother.

Earth, Water, Fire, and Air,
I am the Mother.
Earth, Water, Fire, and Air,
I am the Mother.
Earth, Water, Fire and Air,
Call my name and I’ll be there.
Earth, Water, Fire and Air,
For I am the Mother.

Source unknown

Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful!

For a pagan approach to Christmas, Yule, or the Winter Solstice, here is a variation to the traditional Christian Christmas Carol, “Oh, Come, All Ye Faithful! ” Same melody, just different words. Enjoy!

Oh, come, all ye faithful
Gather round the Yule fire
Oh, come ye, oh, come ye,
To call the Sun!
Fires within us
Call the Fire above us

O, come, let us invoke Him!
O, come, let us invoke Him!
O, come, let us invoke Him!
Our Lord, the Sun!

Yea, Lord, we greet Thee!
Born again at Yuletide!
Yule fires and candles flames
Are lighted for You!
Come to thy children
Calling for thy blessing!

O, come, let us invoke Him!
O, come, let us invoke Him!
O, come, let us invoke Him!
Our Lord, the Sun!

From Green Egg Magazine

Gloria

For a pagan approach to Christmas, Yule, or the Winter Solstice, here is a variation to the traditional Christian Christmas Carol, “Gloria ” Same melody, just different words. Enjoy!

Snow lies deep upon the Earth
Still our voices warmly sing
Heralding the glorious birth
Of the Child, the Winter King

Glo — ria!
In excelsis Deo!
Glo — ria!
In excelsis Dea!

Our triumphant voices claim
Joy and hope and love renewed
And our Lady’s glad refrain
Answer Winter’s solitude.

Glo — ria!
In excelsis Deo!
Glo — ria!
In excelsis Dea!

In Her arms a holy Child
Promises a glowing Light
Through the winter wind so wild
He proclaims the growing Light.

Glo — ria!
In excelsis Deo!
Glo — ria!
In excelsis Dea!

Now the turning of the year
Of the greater Turning sings
Passing age of cold and fear
Soon our golden summer brings.

Glo — ria!
In excelsis Deo!
Glo — ria!
In excelsis Dea!

From Green Egg Magazine

Glory to the New Born King

For a pagan approach to Christmas, Yule, or the Winter Solstice, here is a variation to the traditional Christian Christmas Carol, “Hark The Herald Angels Sing” Same melody, just different words. Enjoy!

Brothers, sisters, come and sing
Glory to the new-born King!
Gardens peaceful, forests wild
Celebrate the Winter Child!

Now the time of glowing starts!
Joyful hands and joyful hearts!
Cheer the Yule log as it burns!
For once again, the Sun returns!
Brothers, sisters, come and sing!
Glory to the new-born King!

Brothers, sisters, singing come
Glory to the newborn Sun
Through the wind and dark of night
Celebrate the coming light!

Suns glad rays through fear’s cold burns,
Life through Death the Wheel now turns!
Gather round Yule log and tree
Celebrate Life’s mystery
brothers, sisters, singing come
Glory to the new-born Sun.

From Green Egg Magazine

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