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Song Info
Genre
Author
Vagenda
Rights
1994 Vagenda. All rights reserved
Uploaded
February 15, 2016
Track Files
MP3
MP3 4.6 MB • 160 kbps • 4:01
Story behind the song
*WARNING*
If you would rather enjoy this piece of art and have it come to mean something truly unique to you, do not read the backstory. Just as the band “Aerosmith” once criticized the music video industry of robbing fans from having their own visions of imagery associated to a song and supplanting it with some “official” footage, so too can knowing a songs backstory potentially come to rob it of having some special place and meaning for you.
Or both can exist. It’s all really subjective. Proceed with understanding.
Thank you,
V
The Official Backstory
This song centers around three dreams I had growing up.
The First Dream:
When I was very young, at about age 4, I used to have a series of dreams where I was in a dark black space with no sense of direction or depth, and there was a light that came down and illuminated this really big lever. The lever had a piece at the top you had to squeeze to unlock it, otherwise it couldn't move. It was at a position pointing straight up. Some power that I acknowledged within the dream as "what had created the universe" (maybe God, but I'm not religious) was presenting me with this lever, and asking me to throw it one way, or the other way. One side represented good, the other represented evil, but neither side was labelled. I was being asked to select a side completely blindly.
So I broke the lever. And the dream would come back the next night, and I'd break it again. And so on.
The Second Dream:
I had a dream when I was 15. It was dark. There was a small 2 story white house in the woods that a bunch of people I went to school with all lived in. All the girls wore simple white robes, all the guys wore jeans and white T-Shirts each with a single letter on it. No matter what, whenever you looked at a group of boys, their shirts always spelled something. Everyone knew a mob from a nearby town was expected to show up with torches and pitchforks wanting to kill us all. No one seemed upset, or even very remotely interested in this. It was always night there.
There was a ritual starting. One girl laying on her back, arms outstretched in a Jesus Christ pose. Three girls on either side of her. Those 6 (three on either side) carried her down into a river where I was waiting, chanting something as she approached me, head towards me, feet facing away. The guys stood at the side of the river bank watching. As the girl being carried got close to me, one hand was raised in the air – still chanting, a spell casting a lit circle around us, and a light in a narrow beam almost like sunlight breaking through a small hole in a cloud, coming from the sky, illuminating some crows that were previously unseen and now scattering away from the light – the other hand reached down to her face, then pushed her head underwater.
Chanting continued – and just as she is seemingly about to drown, her head springs up from the water choking for breath – and I’m experiencing it. For a short time – I live in her, and she lives in me. At the end, we are bonded and each know each others mind, experiences, histories – and it is some ritualistic rite of passage into our group. Effectively, as someone knew joined, they came to know all of our collective histories and memories, just as we came to know the new members. We were bonded by knowing each other so exceptionally, and accepted inescapably for the same reason. While still in that moment where I am living consciously as her at the end of her entrance ritual, and while still standing in the middle of all the other girls in the river, I look toward the guys who had turned their backs to us, seeing the light of fire approaching in the distance. It is the mob coming. The boys shirts spell out “SOFT HILL LIONS”…
Which turned out to be an anagram for SONS OF LILLITH (the name of the second album, and also what came to be the name of one of the bands I had put together not long after having this dream).
A special note to the so-called
Lyrics
Anarchy
© 1994 Vagenda. All rights reserved
(December, 1994)
(Composed at age 18)
(Recorded on November 16, 2015)
Kill me before it's too late
I am the messenger of hate
I've come to warn you of evil things to come
Destroy me once I'm done
I'll infect this land
Don't you understand
You must end me
Now sit still as I chant my rites
I'm a primer for a coat of black
Grey eyes stare at white marble walls
I'll steal your soul, but I'll spare your disguise
I'll infect this land
Don't you understand
You must end me
I'll infect this land
Won't you give me a hand
You must join me
ANARCHY
Oh, I'll burn
Kill me before it's too late
I am the messenger of hate
I've come to warn you of evil things to come
Destroy me once I am done
I'll infect this land
Don't you understand
You must end me
I'll infect this land
Won't you give me a hand
You must join me
ANARCHY
Oh, I'll burn
