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lyrics

Spitting out your anger,
Like you hold an iron spike.
To the corners of creation,
Aimed with all your might.
You have an eye like thunder,
And you hold a fist like ice.
Flaying all illusions,
At the turning of the dice.

You are a wrathful man.

Well there’s nothing of me in you,
But all of you in me.
With sentiment, attachment,
Is struggling to be free.
From being in a person,
Who is wise and full of life.
When yesterday is over,
And tomorrow’s held on ice.

Rooted in the earth,
It’s the spike that holds you down.
Without remorse or pity,
Buried deeply in the ground.
There is no trust in me,
And in you there is no doubt.
What ever will be in there ,
Is what we keep we without.

If we knew what was out there,
Would we ever take the chance.
Would we ever make the steps that lead,
To the other worldly dance.
Would we pay the pipers tune,
Would we play the pipers aire.
Not ever really knowing what was,
going to be out there.

You are a wrathful man.

Spitting out your anger,
Like you hold an iron knife.
No reverent illusions,
While your living for your life.
You have an eye like thunder,
You hold a fist like fire.
Giving all, revealing,
The things that you desire.

credits

from The Serendipity Demos, released June 21, 2020

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about

Nicholas Breeze Wood UK

Multi instrumentalist singer-songwriter drawing on Rock, Arabic and Medieval music, using instruments from all those traditions

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