For The Losing of My Mind

Gather all the weedlings from the hills
Dragon's blood and withered whipowills
Bring them on before the dawn
Gather round the shrine 
Sing his rites before the sun rises
Then he'll give the sign 

Who will have the knowing of the old? 
Who will call the others from below? 
Who will know the words to master 
The bringing from the earth? 
Who will take their wretched souls 
From their death unto their birth?
 
Call up all the goddesses you've known 
From times before and times that you have grown 
Let them speak and let them teach me 
A world you'll leave behind 
So I may go before the hall 
For the losing of my mind. 

The words have passed, the sacred winds have gone 
I have seen and I have sung the songs 
Now the winds they carry me 
To the altar of the priests 
Where the giving I've received 
The world  will never see.

Gather all the weedlings from the hills 
Dragon's blood and withered whipowills 
Bring them on before the dawn 
Gather round the shrine 
Bring your homage gather demons 
Praise what now is mine

Written by Sharry Anne Stevens 1973, all right reserved

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