The Seven-Sided Chestahedron

Track 1

Jan 26 – 2023

~ 2,100 // 12 hours


 

 

<INTRO>

Spring bones; fall time I polished and shined

This white structure and frame in my mind

Winter snowfall and blizzards; the winter sun is the darkest

Like a past spring, discovering yet another dead artist

 

<>

 

A symbol, the emblem

The embodiment, of an anthem

I don’t mean to misinform

But you gotta keep your head warm

 

Wearing upon my head, the toque

I don’t mean this to rebuke

Or exclaim that perhaps I’ve lost my way

It’s simply a metaphor used to convey

 

A symbol, the emblem

The embodiment, of an anthem

I don’t mean to misinform

You gotta keep your head warm

 

<Verse One: Cold Mountains>

 

Immense, immovable mountains

With peaks even the sun doesn’t brighten

That few have been able to climb

And take photos near the warning sign

 

Lonely and cold, lost in an endless winter

Where the wind blows so harsh and bitter

The rivers here are made of ice, slowly moving

Lost birds don’t just fly home by choosing

 

Some peaks all look the same, among the jagged edges

Sheer drops, loose rocks and strong winds punish the reckless

Wind, and some birds are moving up, to the sky

Everything else is moving down; at least they try

 

Mountain climbers try both methods

Some of them gear up, with ropes and helmets

Others with only sheer sinewy will, over many a day

But of the ones who make it down, all of them say

 

One should endeavour to keep the cold out

Or face the consequences, no doubt

If you’re freezing in a snowstorm

One needs to keep his head warm

 

The bitter wind cuts into your very bones

And you find the cure is hidden behind many unknowns

As the cold wind blows into your soul

You start shaking as you lose control

 

He failed the climb up the mountain

Then the coldness seeped in, I’ve written

But it was there before, only kept away

By the heat in his core; before the decay

 

<>

 

A symbol, the emblem

The embodiment of an anthem

Staying present, staying current

Caught up in the glacier current

 

<Verse Two: Cool Trends>

 

The great oceans and rivers of this planet

Pull with an unmatched strength, cutting through granite

Doesn’t matter if you’re aware or ignorant

It’s so simple to be swept up in the current

 

Small streams, flowing noisily through the warm valley

Are more noticeable, bubbling so happily

But they lack the subtle power of the current

And the riptide, pulling softly and silent

 

The slow motion of the glacier, with rocks in suspension

Doesn’t care about your focus, motives and attention

It simply moves everything, boulders and all

Where it wants, flowing with an icy crawl

 

This great current holds onto the cold, refusing to let go

Sweeping everything along with it, you know

Doing the same things as the majority

Staying cool, calling it the new maturity

 

Some say the cold is their warm friend

But really that’s the opposite of this trend

Some say they have riches, while others have a fever

But really, the fever has them; if speaking clearer

 

Heartbreak music from the glacier, with a quiet roar

Shattering all the way down to its frozen core

Forgotten people are passed by, lining the shore

Those wanting to stay current, join in; the rest ignore

 

Some birds are fearful of being left behind

Though they don’t realize they’re so inclined

Stay with the flock, some understand they don’t have much choice

Yet even solitary eagles, flying alone, still follow the noise

 

<>

 

Staying cool, staying current

Caught up in the glacier current

Embracing the romanticism

Of a slow and beautiful cataclysm

 

<Verse Three: Slow Cataclysm>

 

The lack of heat from the summer sun

Caused ice to form, and many to succumb

To the gentle pull of the glacier current

Staying present, staying current

 

Just chilling, slowly freezing on the ice flow

Doomscrolling for entertainment, I know

Shivering during the day; the sunlight’s disappeared

These days everyone wearing a toque has a beard

 

I can trace my steps here, and the path I used

But something about it is leaving me confused

Did I hike up the mountain to get here?

Or did I hike down the mountain? It’s not clear

 

Just chilling, going with the glacier flow

These days doomscrolling is endless, I know

The sun’s clouded over, I don’t know where it’s gone

Shivering in the day, it’s cold like the dawn

 

My soul is frozen, just like my fingers

But I chose to be here, chilling on the ice rivers

Frozen to the current, you couldn’t decide to leave

At least that’s what some of them believe

 

Take in a deep breath; my lungs are freezing

Matching my soul with my chest, I’m breathing

Glyphosate everywhere, into your bones it’s leaching

The glacier keeps flowing, cracking and creaking

 

Gather up some blankets, or close the window

Pull down your toque, the temperature is below zero

When you wake up your skin is so cold

Someone loves you, but you’ll never know

 

<Verse Four: Frozen Oblivion>

 

Colder, slower, on an ice floe, chilling

Colder, calmer, that’s just how I’m feeling

Flowing ice, straight bars, endless loop

Got that flow, on the ice floe, endless loop

 

Endless doomscrolling, endlessly flowing

The weather’s taken a turn, now it’s snowing

But I know I’m getting close, because I feel so cold

The meaning of that, from you I’ll withhold

 

I shouldn’t, yet I will; moving on, keeping pace

This glacier isn’t a favourite to win the race

My blood’s begun to thicken, lost in oblivion

When lava cools off it becomes obsidian

 

Why leave, when you can stay, with weather so mild?

They say that those lost in the dangerous wild

Sometimes lose their minds, having exceeded their limits

Freezing to death, yet feeling warm, take off their jackets

 

Frozen oceans, cold sadness like this is relaxing

Oblivion is in some ways even distracting

Violent, untamed oceans have swallowed up minds and bodies

Even a frozen ocean surpasses the might of armies

 

The winds blowing so bitter, have picked up strength

Flowing above the ice rivers, across its breadth and length

Miles and miles, there’s no trees to interfere

With its path and progress across this sphere

 

Some lost birds say they could fly home

With their eyes closed, all on their own

But they never leave the frozen ocean

Where the glacier moves with so calm a motion

 

<Verse Five: Frozen Blood is Purple>

 

Everyone thinks they’re the lone protagonist

Who’s all alone, and unlike the others, if we’re honest

But there’s a paradox here, because all their stories

Are in the same style, placed in similar categories

 

It’s a strange paradox, doing the same thing as the majority

Believing yourself unique and alone, a minority

Trapped in a maze of your own making

Just because the glacier current trend

Is being lost in a maze without a friend

 

Darkside Darci, purple with the cat skulls

Jumping between ideas like I’m Danny McCaskill

Now I’m onto a different metaphor

Dodging left and right like a matador

 

A fashionable item for living in a past ice age

A poorly understood safety mechanism, a sort of cage

Some athletes take an ice bath to deal with the pain

But they don’t have frozen blood flowing through their veins

 

Keeping warm, the memories of a past life

Frozen heart, frozen soul, in a world of ice

Many say it, but who really wants off the glacier?

For some, they believe it’s simply in their nature

 

<>

 

A symbol, the emblem

The embodiment of an anthem

Staying present, staying current

Caught up in the glacier current

Embracing the romanticism

Of a slow and beautiful cataclysm

 

<THE TUXEDO INTERLUDE>

 

An isle of flightless birds

Well-dressed, a tuxedo for every herd

A land of perpetual ice and snow

Where the sunlight only has a faint glow

 

Creatures that need to be warm all of the time

Don’t live here on their own dime

They wouldn’t last more than a few moments

Teeth chattering, only time for a few comments

 

But for these flightless birds, this is home

They’re prepared to handle the cold

Better dressed than most princes and dukes

The strange thing is they don’t need to wear toques

 

A different uniform for each flock

To them, living here is no shock

They’re dressed to live in a frozen world

Where over eons the ice and snow have swirled

 

Dressed mostly in black, with a bit of white and yellow

But here’s the thing, they’re not goth or emo

They’re not even friends with the emus

At least that’s what they’ve said in interviews

 

They understand that twenty-eight is no eulogy

It’s merely a song on trilogy

They’re not goth or emo

Closer to Trench, or maybe Amo

 

But here’s a key point

That gets some out of joint

They don’t brave the glacier alone

They know wind cuts to the bone

 

They’re not concerned with staying warm all

Of the time, like in a winter squall

As long as their blood doesn’t freeze

They’re free to do as they please

 

They know that being cold doesn’t kill you

It’s never warming up that keeps your lips blue

They know how to go through cycles

They aren’t surprised by the winter trials

 

Huddled together, rotating in and out, sometimes

They get to be in the centre, all warm, other times

Just comfortable in the middle rows

Eggs on their toes, they haven’t froze

 

Other times, braving the cold edge

It’s even good for them, some allege

Some say the cold is their warm friend

Penguins have certainly embraced that trend

 

<>

 

A symbol, the emblem

The embodiment of an anthem

Staying present, staying current

Swept up by the glacier current

The toque keeps the wind out of your hair

The ice freezes the very air

Even in a summer storm

You need to keep your head warm

 

PART TWO: WARMING UP

 

<Verse Six: Rejecting the Glacier>

 

The winter sun peaks out from behind a wall of clouds

On the glacier current there’s several frozen crowds

But this winter sun’s heat is too weak

You need to wear a toque on the mountain peak

 

But the winter sun did illuminate a distant

Spectre, the pathway of this glacier current

Pulling the toque over my head, but leaving open my eyes

Looking in the far distance, a lonely rise

 

The glacier current, with barely a breath

Is heading towards a slow, cold death

Where nothing ever matters

And all you have is questions without answers

 

The glacier travels unimpeded over large stones

With a grave effort it loosens frozen bones

It says to follow it down, down to where it’s nice

All the way down, flowing with this current of ice

 

But my head’s warmed up, now seeing clearly

I’m walking off the glacier, however weakly

Even haunted by dreams of the past, visions of the end

Up a different mountain I’ll attempt to ascend

 

<>

 

Staying cool, staying current

Caught up in the glacier current

Embracing the romanticism

Of a slow and beautiful cataclysm

 

<Verse Seven: Beauty in a Frozen World>

 

The most majestic mountains

With peaks the sun doesn’t brighten

Are often lonely, cold and remote

Where the very air freezes in your throat

 

People who live near the oceans of the world

Are often mesmerized and captivated by the way the waves swirled

The grand vastness, is enchanting and calls

To them, in words louder than the gulls

 

The vast frozen oceans of this planet

Have a brilliant beauty, sculptured in ice and granite

Inhabited only by flightless, well-dressed birds

Who survive by wearing tuxedos and live in herds

 

Watching the sunset, the tempeture drops quickly

Through the mountains the cold wind whips swiftly

Putting the finishing touches on my memoir

Warmed by the inferno of a dying star

 

You need to stay warm, and always remember

Careful around edges; you could fall down like September

In the summer, or in the storm

You gotta keep your head warm

 

<OUTRO>

 

Spring bones; fall time I polished and shined

This white structure and frame in my mind

Winter snowfall and blizzards; winter sun is the darkest

Like a past spring, discovering yet another dead artist

Valerie says you should check in with your friends, however modest

 

Seven verses, each with seven quatrains

Symmetry is nice, the outro is all that remains

In North America, a type of mammoth was the mastodon

That ends the beginning of the Seven-Sided Chestahedron

 

The Chameleon

 

 


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