Inspired by Ezekiel 37, and using portions of the T.S. Eliot poem "The Waste land."
lyrics
I'm in a valley of dry bones
Ashes and dust are all I know
April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
What are the roots that clutch, what branches grow
Out of this stony rubbish?
Son of man,
You cannot say, or guess, for you know only
A heap of broken images, where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water.
Only
There is shadow under this red rock
Here is no water but only rock
Rock and no water and the sandy road
The road winding above among the mountains
Which are mountains of rock without water
If there were water we should stop and drink
Amongst the rock one cannot stop or think
If there were rock
And also water
And water
A spring
A pool among the rock
If there were the sound of water only
Not the cicada
And dry grass singing
But sound of water over a rock
In the faint moonlight, the grass is singing
Over the tumbled graves, about the chapel
There is the empty chapel, only the wind’s home.
It has no windows, and the door swings,
Dry bones can harm no one.
Come resurrect me
Breathe new life in me
Come resurrect me, and call me from the grave
I walk this valley of dry bones
But beauty rises from ash and stone
Life springs from death, and dry bones cannot harm me
Christ Church exists to lead people into a deeper relationship
with Christ and His Church through community and for the city. We are located in Berkeley, CA.
Modular synths sparkle amidst piano, vibes, and other organic instruments stringing together constellations of sound. Bandcamp New & Notable Sep 22, 2023