BOWIE IN THE BARDO

I have mentioned Bowie and his gnostic lyrics  before, and here is a little bit more from the laughing gnome.

bowie1

bowie2

I’m closer to the Golden Dawn
Immersed in Crowley’s uniform
Of imagery
I’m living in a silent film
Portraying Himmler’s sacred realm
Of dream reality
I’m frightened by the total goal
Drawing to the ragged hole
And I ain’t got the power, anymore
No I ain’t got the power anymore

I’m the twisted name on Garbo’s eyes
Living proof of Churchill’s lies
I’m destiny
I’m torn between the light and dark
Where others see their targets
Divine symmetry
Should I kiss the viper’s fang
Or herald loud the death of Man
I’m sinking in the quicksand of my thought
And I ain’t got the power anymore

Don’t believe in yourself
Don’t deceive with belief
Knowledge comes with death’s release

Ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah

I’m not a prophet or a stone age man
Just a mortal with the potential of a superman
I’m living on
I’m tethered to the logic of Homo Sapien
Can’t take my eyes from the great salvation
Of bullshit faith
If I don’t explain what you ought to know
You can tell me all about it
On the next Bardo
I’m sinking in the quicksand of my thought
And I ain’t got the power anymore

Don’t believe in yourself
Don’t deceive with belief
Knowledge comes with death’s release

Ah ah ah ah
Ah ah ah ah ah

Don’t believe in yourself
Don’t deceive with belief
Knowledge comes with death’s release

“Oh! You Pretty Things”

Wake up you sleepy head
Put on some clothes,
shake up your bed
Put another log on the fire for me
I’ve made some breakfast and coffee
Look out my window and what do I see
A crack in the sky
and a hand reaching down to me
All the nightmares came today
And it looks as though they’re
here to stay
What are we coming to
No room for me,
no fun for you
I think about a world to come
Where the books were found
by the Golden ones
Written in pain, written in awe
By a puzzled man who questioned
What we were here for
All the strangers came today
And it looks as though
they’re here to stay[CHORUS:]
Oh You Pretty Things
Don’t you know you’re driving your
Mamas and Papas insane
Oh You Pretty Things
Don’t you know you’re driving your
Mamas and Papas insane
Let me make it plain
([second time:] Let me say it again)
You gotta make way
for the Homo Superior Look at your children
See their faces in golden rays
Don’t kid yourself they belong to you
They’re the start of a coming race
The earth is a bitch
We’ve finished our news
Homo Sapiens have outgrown their use
All the strangers came today
And it looks as though they’re here to stay
 Released in 1972.
PRETTY THINGS GOING TO HELL

What to wear, what to say
What to do on a sunny day
Who to phone, who to fight
Who to dance with on a Sunday night?

Reaching the very edge you know
Reaching the very edge
I’m going to the other side of this town
Reaching the very edge

You’re still breathing but you don’t know why
Life’s a bit and sometimes you die
You’re still breathing but you just can’t tell
Don’t hold your breath
But the pretty things are going to hell

Well, I am a drug, I am a dragon
I am your best jazz you’ve ever seen
I am the dragon, I am the sky
I am the blood at the corner of your eye

I found the secrets, I found gold
I found you out before you grow old
I found you out before you grow old

What is eternal, what is damned
What is clay and what is sand?
Who to dis, who to trust
Who to listen to and who to suss?

I’m reaching the very edge you know
I’m reaching the very edge
I’m going to the other side of this town
I’m reaching the very edge

You’re still breathing but you don’t know why
Life’s a bitch and sometimes you die
You’re still breathing but you just can’t tell
Don’t hold your breath
But the pretty things are going to hell

I am a dragon, I am a drug
I am your best jazz you’ve ever had
I am the dragon, I am the sky
I am the blood at the corner of your eye

I found the secrets, I found gold
I found you out before you grow old
I found you out before you grow old

The pretty things are going to hell
They wore it out
But they wore it well

The pretty things are going to hell
They wore it out
But they wore it well

The pretty things are going to hell
They wore it out
But they wore it well

The pretty things are going to hell
They wore it out
But they wore it well

You’re still breathing but you don’t know why, we got
You’re still breathing but you just can’t tell
Don’t hold your breath but the pretty things are going to hell.

Seven Years In Tibet.

bowieneck

Related info from 2012.

https://dugpasandtheirrole.wordpress.com/2012/08/09/terence-mckenna-tibet/

BOWIE – BAALS HYMN

Whilst his mother’s womb contained the growing Baal
Even then the sky was waiting quiet and pale
Naked, young, immensely marvelous
Like Baal loved it, when he came to us

That same sky remained with him in joy and care
Even when Baal slept peaceful and unaware
At night a lilac sky, a drunken Baal
Turning pious as the sky grows pale

So through hospital, cathedral, whiskey bar
Baal kept moving onwards and just let things go
When Baal’s tired, boys, Baal cannot fall far
He will have his sky down there below

When the sinners congregate in shame together
Baal lay naked, reveling in their distress
Only sky, a sky that will go on forever
Formed a blanket for his nakedness

And that lusty girl, the world, who’ll laughing yield
To the men who’ll stand the pressure of her thighs
Sometimes gave him love-bites, such as can’t be healed
Baal survived it, he just used his eyes

And when Baal saw lots of corpses scattered â€~round
He felt twice the thrill, despite the lack of room
“Space enough” said Baal, “Then I’ll thicken the ground
Space enough within this woman’s womb”

Any vice for Baal has got its useful side

It’s the man who practices it, he can’t abide
Vices have their point, once you see it as such
Stick to two for one will be too much

Slackness, softness are the sort of things to shun
Nothing could be harder than the quest for fun
Lots of strength is needed and experience too
Swollen bellies can embarrass you

Under gloomy stars and this poor veil of tears
Baal will graze a pasture till it disappears
Once it’s been digested to the forest’s teeth
Baal trod singing for a well earned sleep

Baal can spot the vultures in the stormy sky
As they wait up there to see if Baal will die
Sometimes Baal pretends he’s dead, but vultures swoop
Baal in silence dines on vulture-soup

When the dark womb drags him down to its prize
What’s the world still mean to Baal, he’s overfed
So much sky is lurking still behind his eyes
He’ll just have enough sky when he’s dead

Once the Earth’s dark womb engulfed the rotting Baal
Even then the sky was up there, quiet and pale
Naked, young, immensely marvelous
Like Baal loved it when he lived with us

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