The wonderful cover art by Melon James printed on 5"x7" archival matte paper (measures 8"x10" with matting).
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lyrics
[Verse 1: Sans]
I’m in bed with my own mortality
thinking bout all the blessings that been handed me
a good life, great friends and success
and mentors who help me through the lessons
yes, a wild 28, all the patterns I’ve learned
now I stand on the verge of my saturn return
got a lot left to give, got to respect the process
gotta prove that I’m more than a sophist
frenetic pace with phronesis on tap
I hesitate for a second to think and then act
they want to know if death isn’t the end
I’m not sure, but I know that death is a friend
when I meet him I’ll be ready to go
ready today if I’m thrown, my time alive is the skip of a stone
and as I slip below the ripples and sink
I’ll express gratitude, gee thanks I’ma keep it succinct
[Verse 2: Drifton Limrik]
A healthy ratio of answers to questions
a lot of gratitude meshed with several handfuls of lessons
and when the class is in session I hope to have the attention
span and mental capacity to understand and digest it
I’ve mastered mathematics counting my blessings
good company made social studies out of my friendships
I spent some time on mountaintops, and down in the trenches
ups don’t matter much with nothing to pass down to descendants
I’ve seen the world through the eyes of an astronomer
had conversations with metacognitive philosophers
invested into time, instead of the chronometer
I traded in a microscope for binoculars
laid on this mortal mattress barely asleep
a series of living nightmares spared me a dream
of seeing where it would lead if I could bury a seed
where self-actualization and posterity meet
[Verse 3: Navid Najafi]
Reflections on the mirror lake way above the shoreline,
I went there by myself was a relatively short climb,
stood at the edge of the water watched the ripples
take shape move then dissolve into the middle,
I’m reminded of a riddle about time and its passage
trippy how it moves much faster the more baggage
you carry on the journey gotta lighten your load,
Cuz lead is much denser and heavier than gold.
But let me digress,
back to the water now I must confess,
I’m a child of Tiamat the Salt Mama Serpent,
swimming in that Elamite stew she made a Persian,
who crossed many borders and laughed we ain’t afraid of death,
a series of uncertainties no syncopated bated breath necessary
we just some Patterns in dust
So I take a deep dive on your Saturnalias
That’s gratitude deserving
Blessed is the path I’m the just the universe observing
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