Tarot · Track 5 · middle
The Hierophant
RWS: a robed teacher between two pillars, two acolytes kneeling below, crossed keys at his feet, a triple crown, a hand raised in blessing. Keywords: tradition, doctrine, sacred learning, the institution, the comfort and the cage of orthodoxy.
No audio yet — generation pending.
Lyrics
Step between the stone. Two of you kneeling on the velvet rug, Heads bowed low in the incense fog. I wear the triple crown, heavy on the spine, You came to me to draw a solid line. Look at my hand. Two fingers raise the sky, Two point down where the old roots hide. Oh, the beautiful walls of the doctrine, A roof to keep the howling wind at bay. I offer you the shape of the sacred, A quiet place where the frantic mind can stay. But the crossed keys are resting on the floor. Are they waiting to lock, or to open up the door? Exactly 144 knots in the woven rug, The brain loves a canyon, a familiar rut. I speak the ancient words, they settle like dust, You trade your wildness for a structural trust. The yokes on your shoulders are embroidered in red, A heavy, sweet comfort pressing on your neck. Oh, the beautiful walls of the doctrine, A roof to keep the howling wind at bay. I offer you the shape of the sacred, A quiet place where the frantic mind can stay. But the silver keys are resting on the floor. Are they waiting to lock, or to open up the door? You could stand up. You could just stand up right now. I won't strike you down. I just wear the robe. The pillars aren't holding up the heavens, they're just carved from ash, But it's cold out there in the lightning flash... And in here, you belong. Inside the beautiful walls of the doctrine, A roof to keep the howling wind at bay. I offer you the shape of the sacred, A quiet place where the frantic mind can stay. The crossed keys are resting on the floor. You don't even ask what they are for. Two fingers up. Two fingers down. The comfort of the cage. The shadow of the crown.