Inkblot Kettlepot

HECATE
Oh, scenes of the future, beckoning the past
And there’s no reckoning if this new hope will last
Not much sense dwelling in dreams
But I harbor no doubt what that was about
For I spell out what frequently seem
Obvious omens rippling in the stream

ARIA
Call it intuition
Call it premonition
Call it whatever you like
Call it revelation
Or the mind’s own creation
We’re calling for
An encore, an encore-

ALL
Lightning strike! Lightning strike!

ARIA
The longing of our hearts
Rock of ages unveiled
Sounds from the state of the start
And all the art we have inhaled

ALL
We’re gonna make it rain
We’re gonna make it flood
So better get up on the high ground
Or be knee-deep in the mud

BARD
Legends endure after the last ship’s sailed
Past the obstacles that made up the trail
So here’s the epic tale of how we failed
And the less epic tale of how we prevailed

WIZARD
Well, this inkwell kettlepot
Not the brew you knew
Let’s conjure up an inkblot
An inverted version of you
Every tale’s partly true
Scouting out a new angle of view
For we’re all doing what we must
Before our stories disperse to dust

ALL
All that we’ve attempted
And all we’ve achieved
Worlds we’ve invented
In baskets we weave
It’s a messy recipe
Of holiness and sin
It’s less epic than you’d imagine
If you know where to begin
Less epic than you’d imagine
If you know where to begin

AMANA
Foresight forecasts dream interpretations
Fortune cookie vague prognostications
Pythia priestess triplicate predictions
Cryptic riddles ambiguous diction
Bibliomancy and science fiction
From the page to the stage
In a seamless transition

ARIA
Do you think this Cadillac
Comes with automatic transmission?

HECATE
Tea leaves and astrology charts
Ouija I Ching or artichoke hearts
Alphabet soup and Tarot cards
Fortuitous appearance of shooting stars
Count on numerology
Or the fine art of meteorology
Chalk it up to psychology
When you practice the craft of prophecy
The state of fate is a tapestry
And when you seek your destiny
You are you are you are what you see

AMANA
Oh crystal ball, oh crystal ball
They’re all cracked up at the Oracle
Said always choose an alternative
And when in doubt, be decisive
Oh, sure, the signals are clear and loud
Spelled out in the whispers
Of shape-shifting clouds

LUCKY
In the Poor Prophet’s Almanac the forecast is clear
Someday a new hero is bound to appear
The crowds and clouds will gather to hear
Weathercaster’s spell alive and well in our ears!

ALL
The Rorschach Cadillac!
The Second Coming of Mobius!

AMANA
By flying carpet or eight-cylinder bus!
Hey, what if the savior is one of us?
Reincarnation, transmigration
Let’s put a face on this iteration
And get this wish to Manifest Station
Ride this train of thought to Manifest Station
The electric express to Manifest Station

ARIA
Where the fabric meets the flesh
At Manifest Station
Call it intuition
Call it premonition
Call it whatever you like
Call it revelation
Or the mind’s own creation
We’re calling for
An encore, an encore

ALL
Lightning strike!
Lightning strike!
Lightning strike!

January 15, 2017. Category: airlift, The Original Joke.

About Air Lift Underground

View all posts by Air Lift Underground