T. Hakola- words/music, guitars, bass... other voice-Brisa Roché, contact/info: www.theohakola.com,
THE RIVER SONG In the beginning, there was the water, a drop in need of another bead to bond with and give birth Might have come from cats and dogs rain to us sustain or bubbled up like champagne to maintain life on earth Drop after drop a-cruising, source and snow melt fusing never ever refusing the pull of gravity and everywhere infusing every cavity... Going down, down, down to the sea then coming back for you and coming back for me
Sculpting our mother’s rocky flesh with luscious lines and sultry gullies that hydrochisel made her gorges wet carving her coulees to beget a ravishing vanishing vignette, a song of sorrow and furrowed regret intoned over the untamed domain by wolf, elk, duck and whooping crane losing their link in the old food chain to bipeds run amok in the gospel of gain damned to idle in an arid oubliette, a walled off remnant by despair beset while we spout babies and the growth alphabet, bound for hades in a handbasket to howl with the devil in a toxic tête-à-tête while I befoul this revel with every rhyme I can net but I can’t stop singing, I’ll be the last to leave the fête for whether right or wrong, I’m paying off a debt to all the river life-givers that can still do it to every stream and streamlet, every creek and conduit filling every cavity, drawn along by gravity... Going down, down, down to top up the sea and then coming back for you, coming back for me
Springs they do meet and merge to form creeks joining streams as a means to emerge as a river to feed another river that will other rivers seek the earth’s life blood flowing down to the deep carving out its contours on its way to the ocean curving carnal detours, a perpetual motion through mounds of flesh jutting, o’er the dark fundament the blood water’s ever cutting a voluptuous descent A Camille Claudel torrent is our sacred three per cent
Running home to the sea and the other ninety-seven before cycling back to us after a stop in heaven to plump up the raindrops and sharpen their teeth for a return to the rivers waiting underneath I can smell the rain coming together with the fire making mad love, the eternal purifier and I’ve got nothing to hide now not even my desire to fill every cavity and go down with gravity... Down with the river, down down to the sea then water cycle back to you, cycle back me...
