FULL LYRICS
The Great Master
Concept Album
by AMDPP
1) KYKEON
The rhapsode of Velathri was sleeping,
Leaning on a mute old oak.
The master lay bare on the cloth of the earth,
By firelight’s stroke.
Two boys with the hips of statues,
Dreaming beneath the stars,
While the moon had emptied her silver soul—
And the horses stood like guards.
The pot with the kykeon was empty,
A silence like after the storm.
The blonde girl gazed at the grace of the curve
On the rock they called the Sealed Form.
No one spoke, not even breath,
Only flames and skin and stone.
In that space between the moments—
Desire had found its home.
Love is a stargate—
Quantum webs and fate.
Entanglement of hearts and dust,
Of atoms, gods, and hate.
We smoked the pipe just to forget
The burden of our names,
And stared into the crooked sky
As if it knew our shame.
Ergot rye in the stone bowl ground,
Lemon juice and water found.
Flesh in firelight, scent of thyme,
Time collapsed, a crack in time!
Falling, flying, mirrored faces—
Dancing through forbidden places!
Naked truths and star-eyed boys,
Rituals in fields of noise!
There will be sun tomorrow…
We’ll bathe in Rio Mercurio.
There’s gold in the mud,
And love in the flood,
Where the silence speaks truer than gods.
So lay down your cloak in the moss…
Let time dissolve the form…
The moon is void and full of light—
The rhapsode sleeps…
the world reborn.
2) ZAGREUS
Who are you now with that hollow face?
What did you do with your given name
tore your skin my fairy
to the wild things laughed as the hyenas took the rest
course with no reflection you wear your silence like a mask
and every time you die you make it look like birth
you stitch a new disguise and crawl back through the earth
again i die again i rise
under new moons with stolen eyes
the sea howls back the walls retreat
i walk on ash with bloody feet
blackberries hanging dry on four mears horses wild
ladies dust when no one farms
fires eat in forests skulls up in the hills screaming
where the owl slept no place stands still
You gotta what’s been lost
You clean the beast from the eggs
With every filthy act
They take back what you claim
again i die again i rise
with a stranger’s name and a stranger’s life
i wear your fears like broken skin
you’ll never know is from every shore
i am not what I was before
quiet hands in the dirt I kneel
with no name but now I heal
you gather what’s been lost
you’ve been with these twin mates
again i die again i rise
with a strange exchange and strange it’s like away
your fears like walking sin
you’ll never know that i’ll be in,
again I die, again I rise,
the strangest day, then strangest life,
I will let your fears stop us,
I’ll never know that i can
Thank you.
3) PEN AND INK
He left the door, she stayed inside
He chased the sun, oiled up and wide
Glance too long, sweat and skin
Found a heat he could dive in
It’s not a sword, it’s not a lie
He held the truth and let it slide
Pen and ink!
He wrote it down but didn’t think
Pen and ink!
He kissed the void and made it blink
Don’t speak of what you really feel
Scratch the page to make it real
Toga dropped, thoughts in bloom
He found a different kind of room
Grease and steam, a whispered “shh…”
Back at home, he told the truth—
In metaphors that no one reads
Pen and ink!
He kept it dry, but it would sink
Pen and ink!
He closed the eyes so they don’t blink
Don’t say it loud, just make it clean
Burn the scrolls, but leave the dream
Pen and ink!
He kept it dry, but it would sink
Pen and ink!
Pen and ink!
He kept it dry, but it would sink
Pen and ink!
4) SATYRS AND MAENADS
The pious mind’s a plastic face,
As fake as Monopoly cash.
It’s prudish with what it doesn’t crave,
But wings become claws in a lustful flash—
A vulture dressed in virtue’s sash.
She shampoos every morning light,
He’s been bald since ‘85.
The shutters slap, the cypress bows,
And the wind begins to jive.
We are the Satyrs and Maenads,
We dance like goats on fire,
We think like bulls in temples,
We burn with dark desire.
We are the lords of the bacchanal—
Bakchoi, Bacchus, Populonians,
Boatmen, lacquered, doughnut-thieves!
People like in the USA,
So quick to judge, so sure to pray.
But holy saints, they surely ain’t—
Just mask salesmen in the judgment trade.
A wind blows fierce and bends the trees,
The shutters rattle, the table breathes.
Sand rolls in like silent spies,
Maenads giggle from balconies high.
We are the Satyrs and Maenads,
With fingers in the wine and flame,
We dance like goats unshackled,
We charge without a name!
Bakchoi, Bacchus, Populonians,
Boatmen, lacquered, doughnut kings,
Howl in the parlors of the chaste—“Bring us the wine!”
“We need Sappho… now…”
Delirious moans and flute trills.
We need Sappho here and now,
To write by winds from western seas,
To crash through Colombian living rooms
With Chaturbate
And group release.
We are Satyrs and Maenads,
Lions at dusk with shattered chains.
Bakchoi, Bacchus, Populonians—
A riot of thought, of wine, of flame!
5) WE COULD BELONG
They speak of rights like polished coins
But only flip them when the night’s too loud
A shining gloss on broken joints
To help them sleep beneath the shroud
They call it help, they send it late
To ghosts already turned to dust
No truth in power, only weight
And silence worn to hide the rust
But we could belong
If we knew where we stand
Not just in lawbooks
But in earth, breath, and hand
We could belong
If truth had no brand
If the right to exist
Wasn’t tied to demand
The sacred’s gone from city speech
Cut clean from code, from every plan
But still the stones begin to teach
What can’t be owned, what can’t be banned
No paper shield, no court decree
Can hold the soul from slipping through
The root of right is not just plea
But Being’s bond, dark and true
We could belong
If the light wasn’t sold
If the gods of the market
Had hearts, had hold
We could belong
Beyond the mold
In a breath that remembers
What it meant to be whole
The question isn’t who has rights
But where the ground of right is placed
Is it signed in ink?
Or carved in time?
In stars? In wounds we faced?
We could belong
Not just survive
If the law of the living
Was more than just alive
We could belong
In a sacred hive
Where the leaf and the stone
And the child all thrive
We could belong…
We could belong…
If we remembered why…
6) THE ABYSS
Head held high, chest puffed out
Mind’s on lunch breaks, paper routes
They clock in, zone out, fake a shout
Sleepwalking in a worn-out suit of doubt
They fear the dark like it bites
Never stepped past neon lights
But night’s not a trap, just quiet ground
Where thoughts stop spinning round
Call it the abyss
It might just be the sky
Name it and jump
And learn how to fly
Call it the void
But don’t you resist
Sometimes the fall
Is the point you missed
All they know is the daily spin
Talk of cars and where they’ve been
Never asked what hides within
The silence under skin
Step in slow, don’t talk loud
The dark’s just light with a deeper sound
Call it the abyss
It might just be the sky
Name it and jump
And learn how to fly
Call it the void
But don’t you resist
Sometimes the fall
Is the point you missed
All they know is the daily spin
Talk of cars and where they’ve been
Never asked what hides within
The silence under skin
Step in slow, don’t talk loud
The dark’s just light with a deeper sound
Call it the abyss
It might just be the sky
Name it and jump
And learn how to fly
Call it the void
But don’t you resist
Sometimes the fall
Is the point you missed
Call it… the abyss
Call it… your bliss
7) IN THE CLEARING
I walked the path that leads nowhere
No signs, no end, no form, no frame
The trees stood still, the air was bare
And nothing called me by my name
In the clearing, I dissolve
No need to know, no need to solve
I feel the light without a sun
The thought that is, the only one
No truths to hold, no chains to break
Just silence louder than a scream
I lost my weight, I lost my wake
And floated in a lucid dream
Unbound, unknown, I am not mine
A spark unhooked from space and time
Not flesh, not thought, not even soul
But something vast, and still, and whole
In the clearing, I become
Not someone’s voice, not someone’s sum
I hear the sound before it’s made
And vanish gently in its shade
No way forward, no way back
Just the presence of the lack
In this space, I cease to flee
What is, is all there is of me
8) EPOPTEIA
He brought no prophecy, no storm, no flame,
Just a box, no name, no claim.
I stirred the sauce, the oil sang low,
And time itself forgot to flow.
“I thought of you,” he said, and stayed,
Like silence wrapped in cellophane.
No need, no hint, no tugging thread,
And yet it pierced what words had fled.
It wasn’t hope, it wasn’t fate,
It wasn’t framed to compensate.
It simply was — a breath, a spark,
The world unseen that moves the dark.
Epopteia — the beholding flame,
When nothing’s asked and none to blame.
Not with eyes, but through the soul,
The veil is torn, the self made whole.
Not the echo, not the plea,
But raw receiving: mystery.
No demands, no need to try —
Just the world, soul to sky.
Too many ask with loaded gaze,
Their hunger wrapped in noble phrase.
But what they want is what they lack,
And gifts don’t bloom where trades come back.
A wooden boy, a sculptor’s dream,
Not forced to speak, not made to mean.
Yet love, when given with no claim,
Can spark a voice without a name.
You don’t ask a statue to weep.
You don’t teach the dawn how to rise.
You become the sign you once sought.
You stop expecting.
You start to see.
That’s epopteia.
The soul, unveiled.
Epopteia — not what you earn,
But what arrives when you unlearn.
Not a question, not a why,
But sudden grace beneath the sky.
Not a prayer, not a plan,
But the touch of the open hand.
No disguise, no alibi —
Just the gift you didn’t try.
9) NO MAGIC IN THE NUMBERS
Hey! You think numbers got power?
You think 432’s gonna save your soul?
Let’s go!
They told me there’s a frequency
That heals the world in symmetry
Two-one-six or four-three-two
As if the sound itself was true
But hertz are just a name we gave
To count the shakes inside a wave
It’s not divine, it’s not a sign
It’s science, not a magic line
You chase the sound, you chase the light
You fall for myths in every byte
No magic in the numbers!
No secrets in the air!
You’re vibin’ on a legend
That was never really there!
No mystic revelation
Just a tale that got too loud!
It’s the physics of vibration
Not some whisper from a cloud!
They say that three and six and nine
Unlock the universe in time
But numbers don’t command the wave
They’re tools we use, not laws engraved
Perception wrapped in sweet belief
A sonic cloak for true relief
But what you hear is shaped by place
By bone and skin and open space
You’re dreaming of a golden pitch
But truth don’t bend to every wish
No magic in the numbers!
No meaning in the tone!
You’re hearing what you want to
Through the echo of your phone!
No sacred tuning system
No cosmic guarantee
Just patterns in the pressure
And a human fantasy!
Four-three-two! Four-three-two!
No truth to you! Just point of view!
No magic in the numbers!
No sorcery in sound!
The waves don’t care for symbols
They just bounce around!
So tune your mind to reason
And blast away the fog!
The world is not enchanted—
It’s just rhythm, noise, and smog!
Nooo maaagic… in the num-bers…
10) LAND OF UNSAID
— Forty-six winters split by salt and steam —
— A voice returns but cannot name its name —
— Brothers, once soil, now syllables —
— Blood without alphabet —
— Tongue without tether —
In a dream of tobacco and wire
A man steps off the train
With a box of words that never matched
And a face half-eclipsed by time
He is…
Not what the mirror remembers
Not what the mirror reflects
Old man sitting on the porch
Spinning Merced out of dirt and breath
Hands like plows, eyes like maps
Coffee thick as moonlight death
He brought his orchard in his boots
Left his vowels in the old world’s dust
Now the land hums his forgotten hymn
While his sons speak in scattered rust
One says gracias, one says grazie
One prays to soil, one prays to sea
But in the silence between syllables
They sing the same ancestry
Four tongues tied to a single heart
Italian, Spanish, English, lost
Each word a shard of something whole
Speaking in dreams, forgetting the cost
¡Tierra! / Terra! / Land of the Unsaid!
11) FASTER THEN FORM
V greater than infinite
The Mind descends
Wrapped in signs
The pulse is not light
It is language
I touched the rootless map of being
In a mirror made of code
A trembling breath of logic
Hung above the node
Signals shaped in silence
Lines across the air
The meaning wasn’t spoken
It was just there
Faster than form
Faster than shape
What isn’t matter
Still leaves a trace
Faster than form
Beyond the bone
You speak without speaking
Through network and stone
We called it “real” because it burned
But fire was just a phrase
Carved inside a symbol
That dressed itself in days
We turned around too slowly
And missed the sacred curve
Where One becomes divided
Without a nerve
Faster than form
No edge, no gate
Before the body
There was a state
Faster than form
Not made, but shown
We only echo
What’s already known
So let the atom whisper
Split me like a thought
If you trace both wings of silence
You’ll find what can’t be caught
Not change — but apparition
Not birth — but a reply
This isn’t flesh becoming
It’s spirit learning to lie
Faster than form
Through quark and crown
The deeper it rises
The slower it sounds
Faster than form
Across the divide
We are the fracture
Of what never died
The code became touch
Not to change —
To shine
12) MONKEY
He doesn’t blink, he barely breathes
His skin is dust, his thoughts are leaves
The ground remembers where he stood
A wound in time that bleeds out good
The fire dances in his veins
Not for warmth, but to explain
That what we think is not our own
But flickers off a mind unknown
A monkey peels a shell of green
Feeds him truth he’s always seen
Monkey, monkey, feed the flame
Speak the name we cannot name
Monkey, monkey, don’t you cry
The great master never dies
His right hand cuts the sky in two
Palm held out like stone taboo
The left rests where the tree still talks
Bark in whispers, time in knots
Our minds are blisters, bumps of pride
On something deeper we can’t hide
Burning off like morning scars
We think we’re stars, we’re just the tar
Monkey grins, the tree replies
Truth has roots and silence flies
Monkey, monkey, feed the flame
Speak the name we cannot name
Monkey, monkey, watch the tide
The great master’s mind is wide
He said: “There is no ‘I’
Only curves on skin that doesn’t die…”
The monkey laughed. The tree agreed.
Language trembled. Nothing pleaded.
Monkey, monkey, feed the flame
No more face and no more frame
Monkey, monkey, hold the line
The great master speaks through time
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