Odes to Joy

Tarot · Track 13 · middle

Death

RWS: a skeletal rider in black armour on a white horse, a black flag bearing a white rose, a fallen king below, a child and a bishop before him, the sun rising between two far towers. Keywords: endings, transformation, shedding, the rebirth on the far side, not dying but changing.

No audio yet — generation pending.

Lyrics

I do not ride to conquer, I ride to clear the field
The pale horse doesn't hurry, he knows the turning wheel
A 14-ounce gold crown rolls heavy in the dust
The king is in the dirt now, as every sovereign must
There is no malice in it, no anger in the bone
Just the gravity of winter coming to claim its own

Look at the flag I carry, pitch-black against the grey
A single white rose blooming to wash the old away
It isn't an execution, it’s just the winter's breath
You call it the final quiet
I call it the space beneath

The bishop folds his hands up, he begs the sky for grace
But the child walks right toward me, a question in the gaze
There is nothing to be afraid of when the outer layers fall
When the cortex stops its frantic spinning, trying to map it all
The heavy robes are slipping, the titles turn to smoke
You are stepping from the armor, the clearing of the throat

Look at the flag I carry, pitch-black against the grey
A single white rose blooming to wash the old away
It isn't an execution, it’s just the winter's breath
You call it the final quiet
I call it the space beneath

Look past the painted leather, look past the empty bone
Look to the distant water, the pillars made of stone
Between the furthest towers, the sky is turning gold
You have to drop the history before the blood gets cold
The sun is coming up
The sun is coming up

Look at the flag I carry, pitch-black against the grey
A single white rose blooming to wash the old away
It isn't an execution, it’s just the winter's breath
You call it the final quiet...
I just call it the opening of the door you couldn't see

The king is in the dirt
The child is in the light
The sun between the towers
A morning born of night
We ride on
Pick a song