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“Hell is empty and all the devils are here.” ― William Shakespeare, The Tempest Official Video here: https://youtu.be/mmZTqpvTZCs?si=u5ks4YE7XDx6bhlx Check out the review over at Doomed & Stoned: https://doomedandstoned.com/post/813332350278746112/mystictapedeck The Soothsayer's Bone is said to be the femur of a prophet and psychic so ancient, their name has been forgotten to the mists of time. The bone has been passed down through a long chain of people in positions of great power around the world. It is said to possess great fortune telling powers, granting whomever holds it the ability to use it as a sort of diving rod to merge normally disconnected timelines and open a window through the astral veil - through which the future can be seen. The outcomes appear as implanted “memories” in the mind of the user, who can then “see” the future outcome of a chain of causal events as though they are recalling something they had already experienced. The relic has a history of being passed down through a long chain of tyrannical rulers who have used the powers of the bone to forecast the outcome of military battles and political upheavals. It was especially useful in the hands of despots and oppressors who used it only for personal gain and securing their continuing authoritarian power. While the bone could potentially be used to advance humanity and create a more just and peaceful world, instead it has passed the eons in the hands of simple minded evildoers who use it instead for personal gain and power over others. Some legends say that it was always meant to serve only the needs of its most selfish and hateful masters, but that one day it will fall into the possession of someone who will make great peace with it and vanquish evil from the Earth. Nazilic scholars say that the relic has existed through multiple iterations of the great cycle, and is fiercely guarded by those in power who hold it, preventing it from landing in the hands of the one who will use it for the goodly benefit of all humankind. Many of these despotic leaders have insisted they be buried with the artifact, being unwilling to part with it even in death, but it has been dug up and robbed from their graves each and every time. Nazilic monks believe it is their destiny to finally possess the bone, and that it will play a role in the final dissolution of the shining one by falling into the hands of one who shall rise from amongst their own ranks. So far, however, they have not been successful in obtaining it through several iterations of the great cycle. LYRICS: --------------------- They plough their fields They sow their rows They weave their blankets for the nights when the cold wind blows They swing their scythe They reap their stow And they grind their crusty bread with the soothsayer’s bone They light their fires Burn their effigies All dancing deep in madness, rapt in ecstacy They wave their flags They wail and moan And they beat the war drums with the soothsayer’s bone They’re the prowlers on the prairie They’re the keepers of the key They’re the shadow steppers stepping, stepping over you and me They’re the dreamers of the desert And they’re never at home And they stir their bubbling stew with the soothsayer’s bone They pour their wine They fill their grail Collect the seeping gore in gilded golden pails They nod and chant Ascend the throne And they pierce the astral veil with the soothsayer’s bone They pick their battles They win their fights Adore their kings and revere their shining knights They sacrifice the innocent For sins they must atone And they pick their rotten teeth with the soothsayer’s bone They’re the prowlers on the prairie They’re the keepers of the key They’re the shadow steppers stepping, stepping over you and me They’re the dreamers of the desert And they’re never at home And they stir their bubbling stew with the soothsayer’s bone

COMPLETE LINER NOTES HERE---> https://mystictapedeck.com/bards/the-clock-of-the-four-winds/ The clock of the four winds is a tall-case grandfather style clock originally assembled in 1710 by an Italian astronomer and mathematician named Ricco Foscari, a direct patrilineal descendant of famed explorer, vintner and occultist, Cosimo Foscari. The magical properties of the clock were such that when its hands were moved and positioned in certain configurations, it would trigger remote viewing events which would be projected onto the glass panel cover. The clock was also rumored to serve as a sort of “beacon” used for summoning an other-dimensional being named “Desdinova” who acted as a sort of intermediary between detached yet interconnected causal timelines. LYRICS: -------------------------------------- The chariots lie broken exhausted from war The wheels rolled off in the mud In the morning all good things are good The sun warms up the mud Stillness is raptured in all its arising The seeds grow up from the mud In the morning the dawn weighs a feather The insects hatch from the mud The hunger for sunlight draws flies to the surface The babies wake up in the mud In the morning from green murky waters To wiggle around in the mud Bones growing hollow, the gills turn to lungs Gasping for breath in the mud The fins turn to legs the scales turn to vellum As feathers shake loose from the mud Fly high, all you flying high birds While the warm western winds are beneath you Oh you soaring high birds The sky coming down to greet you We’re all dying to meet you The bird, the great swooping bird Beak open, gobbling gold Oh you soaring high bird The north winds are growing cold Feathers flush with colors bold Now pretend you are the sun Feathers flush with colors bold… Now pretend you are the sun The southern winds, the washboard clouds Diving daringly during the day Teetering upon the tip of the tree The seasons will have their way Tail feathers turning to gray Scatter little birds, oh you tiny little birds The easterly light is encroaching Seeds spilled upon the ground With the end of the autumn approaching And the seasons must have their way… Now pretend you are the sun And the seasons must have their way… Now pretend you are the sun And the seasons must have their way… Rider’s final horse has ridden Puzzle finished, last piece hidden Oysters chatter on evening tide: “I’m Desdinova and I confide, I am the one you warned me of I am the leak and the long lost love And I am the one who will never lie Deathless, I may never die By lizard lens and crystal rope You know me by my telescope” Scattering stars in hand she shouts: “The play is what it’s all about Behind the clock with arms stretched tall The script is on the western wall Behold the light that never warms You’ve been warned, I am the storm” So raise up your chalice and toast to the moon And sing to the stars as they flicker and loom O! Irony! O! Tragedy! Aching knees don’t fail me now We slayed the vile dragon who lived in the skies We bathed in its blood and we pickled its eyes O! Devilry! O! Revelry! If my friends could see me now O! Bravery! Camaraderie! The last lotus eaters recline in the sun The race to return has been finally run Finality! Causality! Swept away on swaggering swans

The Feathered Crown is a card of pride, loss, and the aftermath of hubris. It draws upon two rich veins of folklore — the Appalachian belief in a feathered crown found beneath a dying person’s pillow, and the ancient myth of the Sirens and the Muses. Together, these stories form a layered symbol of reckoning, the echoes of lost glory, and the burdens of victory. In Appalachian tradition, discovering a tightly woven feathered crown in a pillow was often seen as a sign that the soul of the deceased had passed to heaven, a mysterious mark of spiritual judgment. In mythology, after the Muses defeated the Sirens in a singing contest, the Sirens were stripped of their wings as punishment for their arrogance. The Muses, triumphant, wove the plucked feathers into radiant crowns — symbols of their victory but also of the destruction they wrought. This card stands at the intersection of triumph and regret. It speaks of victories that come at a cost, the spoils of conquest weighed down by lingering guilt or sorrow. The Feathered Crown reminds us that success without humility invites ruin. It asks whether our pursuits of recognition or superiority are worth the burdens we carry in their wake. --------------------------------------- Drums, Percussion, Keyboards: Ron Thomas Guitars, Bass, Banjo, Lyre, Vocals, Midi: PS Perkins Mixed and mastered by Mystic Tape Deck Dedicated to Josephine of the Mouse Folk LYRICS --------------------------------------- I saw your feathered crown, the one you keep under your pillow Did you think that you could hide it from me? As you don your supple plumage, tell me did you win it truly From the fairest maidens of Persephone? Are your songs of grief and woe, are they songs of deep regret? With feathers plucked from silvery Sirens wings? Or from the tails of rainbow ravens perching just outside your window Waiting for the passing ships to hear them sing Waiting for the passing ships to hear you sing Dashed upon the rotten rocks of harpy limbed nightingales Where tides resound with death inducing cries As the sailors climb and clamor for a seat upon the razor And a melody to cling to as they die Rejoicing in the arts of their inglorious ease, Freely frolic where the churning waters flow Diving from the clifftops, splashing down into the seas below Charming in both poetry and prose Alluring in both poetry and prose Whosoever dare to wear the feathers in their hair Like the parrot and the magpie in a cage That we may divert our stare from the circling of the bear While standing proud upon the heavens final stage When the starry sisters nine, with their bellies full of wine Have bested you at your own foolish games And the ships all passing by which now leave you there to die Having never even known your given names Having never even known your real names I saw your feathered crown, the one you keep under your pillow Did you think that you could hide it from me? Oh, Josephine, you should have known better.

The Crystal Caves is a symbol of submission, revelation, and the enigmatic boundary between knowledge and madness. It depicts vast, gleaming caverns deep beneath the earth’s crust, where immense quartz crystals grow like frozen lightning. These radiant formations are not merely geological wonders — they are conduits of consciousness, forming the neural lattice of an ancient, mythological intelligence. In the lore of this card, humanity’s collective fears and desires are imprinted upon the crystals, forming an unfathomable archive of thoughts and memories. Faced with an existential crisis — be it environmental collapse, war, or spiritual disillusionment — a select few are chosen to hear the ringing. This sound, like a chorus of distant bells reverberating inside their minds, is a calling from the depths. Those who submit to the summons venture into the Crystal Caves, seeking understanding. Others resist, unwilling to face the knowledge that awaits — and in doing so, are consumed by the madness of dissonance. This card challenges us to confront our inner callings. It asks whether we are willing to descend into the recesses of our own minds, face the uncomfortable truths that lie within, and emerge transformed. Alternatively, it warns of the destructive consequences of rejecting growth when the time has come to evolve. Drums, piano, vibes: R Thomas Guitars, Bass, Vocals, PS Perkins Recorded, mixed and mastered by Mystic Tape Deck Tascam DP24SD + StudioOne 7 + a bunch of cheap mics LYRICS --------------------------- In the ways of the world from the crib to the grave Everybody’s a slave Ain't nobody gonna save us Save your bellyachin for another day Baby they got ways Of making you behave When you hear those bells ringing in your brain Before they drive ya insane Get on a boat or a plane Take the golden taxi to the crystal caves It’s a little like doomsday You’re gonna have to be brave Come join your friends in the crystal caves Meet the underground conclave At the standing wave Gonna put the computer right into your vein Connect the aqueous membrane To the mineral mainframe Gonna jump and jive when they play that jazz Sprinkle on the pizazz And just a little bit of zip zap biddly bap foo bar baz Come and disappear in the crystal cave Everybody’s a slave Ain't nobody gonna save us Now that you’ve arrived, won't you come on in? We’re all about to begin To start shedding our skin Make like a snake, and gobble up that tail It’s a hwale of a fairy tale On the shell of a snail In the mystery maze deep under the ground A little magic we found A way a watch can be unwound To begin again inside the cave alone A place we’re gonna call home Amidst the shimmering stone In the ways of the world from the crib to the grave Everybody’s a slave Ain't nobody gonna save us

FULL SONG NOW AVAILABLE HERE: https://soundcloud.com/mystictapedeck/the-feathered-crown We often do some quite elaborate percussion ensembles within our songs which can get a little buried under everything else we do. The aim of this release is to highlight some of the more interesting percussion passages in our songs, before you hear the songs themselves. Just thought it might be fun to feature these. This one has a drum kit, tabla, tambourine, finger bells, finger snaps and claps, and some crowd sound samples.

Some things belong underground, though they may emerge every now and then to feed in the night. "The Busy Worms" is a sweet little bedtime story about things which wiggle and dance in the serious moonlight. So let's dance. But then it's time for bed. LYRICS ---------------------------------------- (What? Oh I guess I can tell you one little story. Ok, lay down...) A wee little wiggle, deep underground Turn of the shovel, see what we've found Yes you can hold one but don't squeeze too tight They'll squirm from your fingers and slip out of sight Now don't worry darling, don't catch a fright The worms are just hungry, they feed in the night Slippery, slimy and hidden from sight Twisting and turning they dance in the moonlight Dance in the moonlight The worms are busy tonight Yes you can hold one but don't squeeze too tight They'll squirm from your fingers and slip out of sight The earth is no object, it's just passing through They keep the soil healthy for me and for you Slippery, slimy and hidden from sight Twisting and turning they dance in the moonlight The serious moonlight The worms are busy tonight Did you ever think when a hearse drives by That you may be the next to die? They'll wrap you up in a big white sheet That covers you from your head to your feet They'll lower you down in a deep dark pit And leave you alone to rot in it The big black bug with the big red eyes Crawls in your innards and out your sides The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out They dance the watusi upon your snout The worms crawl in, the worms crawl out (Good night, sweet dreams. See you in the morning!)

Ekasha Gada is the mace wielded by Lord Shiva, one of the three primary deities in Hinduism. According to mythological accounts, a single blow from the Ekasha Gada is said to be as powerful as being struck by a million elephants, emphasizing its immense force and destructive capabilities. Guitars, Bass, Mandolin, Vocals: PS Perkins Drums, Percussion, Backup Vocals: R Thomas LYRICS: ----------------------------------------------- God Killer World Eater Thunder Breaker Widower Maker Ekasha Gada! Storm Rider Soul Slayer Time Twister Holy Diver Ekasha Gada! Space Bender Life Ender Eye Melter Death Bringer Ekasha Gada! Moon Razer Cloth Cutter Dragon Brother Chaos Mother Ekasha Gada! Horn Blower Smoke Maker Night Chaser Day Tripper Ekasha Gada! Head Chopper Code Cracker Bone Chewer Sonic Reducer Ekasha Gada! Fire Breather Lava Seeper Spirit Seeker Energy Reaper Ekasha Gada! Earth Shaker Sea Splitter Galaxy Smasher Planet Basher Ekasha Gada! Boulder Buster Ship Sinker Steel Bender Mountain Wrecker Ekasha Gada!

PS Perkins: Guitars, bass, lyre, vocals Ron Thomas: Autoharps, Drums Production notes: --------------------------------------------- Very early on we wanted to use autoharps on this song to create a sort of swirling backdrop, reminiscent of the harps in Indian/Bollywood soundtrack songs of the seventies. Right away there were challenges because the song is in B flat and is not wholly diatonic to begin with, utilizing a chord built on the augmented lydian scale in the choruses. So rather than transpose the song to a more amenable key (since the chromatic bits weren't going to work no matter what key we used) we instead re-tuned the autoharp. Moving through the strings one by one we tuned them either up or down a half step where applicable to bring them into key. Where the augmented chord hit in the choruses, we excluded those notes so that the autoharp was filling the diatonic parts of the chords and omitting the accidentals. It took us several tries to get it right. In the end we arrived at a chord progression that could be strummed on the autoharp and the modified chords could be played with existing dampers. We also tuned the lyre so that the top half of the strings included the chromatic augmented notes while the lower register of the lyre was tuned using the diatonic, so the lyre could play the melody all the way through both parts of the song. The inspiration for this song was essentially fourfold: -------------------------------------------------------- First, H.P. Lovecraft's terrifying necromancer Joseph Curwen (from "The Case of Charles Dexter Ward") who masked his true identity in order to thwart suspicion from his fellow townsfolk. He has many secrets lurking in his underground catacombs where he performs acts of necromancy most foul, extracting the "salts" of the dead in order to raise them at will and learn the secrets of ancient eldritch deities. Second, a poem by Rudyard Kipling titled "En-Dor" which was a warning against the rise of spiritualism and the cost of communion with the dead in the early 20th century. Third, the biblical Saul who traveled in disguise to visit a witch at the city of Endor in order to summon Samuel from the dead and garner advice on defeating the Philistines, but who only prophesies doom for Saul. Saul dies later the next day in the battle of Gilboa. Lastly, the story of Odysseus communing with the underworld where he enlists the help of Tiresias to have a chat with the dead and secure for himself a safe journey home. They all seek communion with the dead for one purpose: to gain knowledge which only those who have crossed over between realms might possess. Lyrics: ------------------------------------- A mask may reveal what it’s meant to conceal From those who are standing beside us Armor of pride, so we learn to abide By the monsters which hide deep inside us The monsters which lurk deep inside us Oh, how they scratch and they bite us The monsters which lurk deep inside us Only to know what the professor knows Eating black bread, wearing clothes of the dead The soil soaked in honey around us For fear if we failed, leave the ogre unveiled And it’s back in the grave where they found us Back in the grave where they found us Freed from the ties which had bound us Back in the grave where they found us Only to know what the professor knows In the catacomb vaults, we extracted the salts From cadavers to lengthen our youth Chanting the names at the edge of the flames And a mirror to show us the truth A mirror which speaks only truth See how it seeks not to soothe A mirror which speaks only truth Only to know what the professor knows In the underworld maze, in the night of no days Concocting the plan we’re devising Much to endure on the road to En-Dor And to snatch from Elohim arising To snatch from Elohim arising Snatch from Elohim arising Snatch from Elohim arising Snatch from Elohim arising Snatch from Elohim arising

A banned book fetish. That's our current kink. Read the accompanying poem here while you listen: https://mystictapedeck.com/bards/the-librarian/ PS Perkins: Guitars, Bass, Vocals, Piano, wood blocks, programming R Thomas: Drums, Wah guitar, shakers, cowbell LYRICS -------------------------- A secret knock, a hidden door, a narrow hallway The eyeless guide sees us inside, watching us always As we meander down the aisles, Rows of spines which stretch for miles And we show our special card On the scent of another shard A vaulted dome, a musty tome, an umbrous alcove A sacred space, a quiet place, a sunken treasure trove Details infinitesimal Dewiest of decimals Ever stranger truth to know As we squish the forbidden fruit between our toes A deeper shaft, an ancient craft, a garish goblin The icy stare, the purple hair, a memory maudlin Going deep down in the mines With a shining pick to grind The librarian lights the way Understands the game we play A puzzle piece, a glob of grease, a rusted lever A blazing fire, we never tire, we nurse our fever Run our fingers down the crease Gently comb the golden fleece Read aloud the sacred scroll Let's show these muggles how we roll They cant stand you, they want to ban you They want to sterilize and pack you up and can you They prefer truth that's mass produced Because they're lacking the tenacity to grasp you So let me ask you: what's the bigger threat? While we're waiiting on a bomb you haven't dropped yet They'd rather burn you then have to learn you Their little fingers are too slippery to turn you The truth waits for us to dissect it And librarians are here to protect it So grab some glasses if you need And climb atop the worlds' mightiest steed We're gonna read until our fingers bleed It's a seed, it's a need, it's an urge you gotta heed It's a growl in your stomach that you know you gotta feed Let's show 'em how to read!

PS Perkins: Guitars, bass, vocals, samples R Thomas: Drums, percussion, keyboards, kitchen gamelan Mixed & Mastered by Mystic Tape Deck More experience here: https://mystictapedeck.com/bards/the-technician/ LYRICS: ------------------------------------------------------- The flashing light is indicating error, error A wave of fear, a rumbling of terror, terror Push the button, summon the repairer, repairer The technician! Arriving on the scene Resequencing the gene Talking to the machine With a list of simple rules And a tidy bag of tools Who will save the helpless fools? Who will save them? Who will save them? The technician. As the only unit who is fit to, fit to The technician has identified the issue, issue The virus is in the soft tissue, tissue The technician! There’s a bump in the road There’s a bug in the code A system overload There’s a fly in the soup A redirection loop There’s a dupe within the group Who will save them, who will save them? The technician. The mechanical voice repeating warning, warning The broken beings all aborning, ‘borning This cannot wait until the morning, morning The technician! With a flinging of the dung And a twisting of the tongue The ladder skips a rung The clock has slipped a gear With the deadline drawing near Have no worries, know no fear Who will save us? WHO WILL SAVE US? The technician.

Additional story here: https://mystictapedeck.com/mythology/the-mountebank/ Guitars, "townie" vocals, timbales, hand drums, drum kit, piano, toy piano, percussion: R Thomas Guitars, "monty" vocals, melodica, omnichord, ebow, bass, percussion, toy piano, claps and snaps: PS Perkins Additional guitar snippets: KVN Finch Spanish guitar outro: Mark Wand LYRICS: ---------------------------- (townie) People in this town, they've all seen you hangin' around They don't like it They're not buyin' what you're sellin', standing' on your box and yellin' They don't like it Their sentiment is strong, and they asked you move along They don't like it. They really don't like it. (monty) People in this town, one by one they sneak around They seem to like it They come and they go, they never let the neighbors know That they like it They may hide it from the rest, but their coins inside my chest say they like it Oh, I think they like it. They like it. (townie) With your shell games and dice, I ain't tellin' you twice I don't like it They're down on their knees while you sell them your disease I don't like it With your slug milk and wine, they're just fish on your line I don't like it I really don't like it. (monty) I am just a businessman, I make my living where I can The way I like it I am sure you understand, I'm just meeting their demand And I like it So there's no need to taunt, I just give them what they want and they like it, Oh I think they like it, and I like it (townie) They say that you're depraved, that you're sick and can't be saved We don't like it. And the medicine you sell isn't making them well We don't like it. So just get on down the road, if you'd like, I'll help you load We don't like it. We really don't like it. (monty) My patience wearing thin, I take another one on the chin Because they like it. So I guess I'll up and go, take my tack and tents in tow I don't like it But your virtue is a clown, so I'll go to the next town Where they like it. I'll go where they like it. Where they like it.

SUPPORT LABOR UNIONS >>>>> VIDEO >>>>> https://youtu.be/cVy1UTIQ-S8 <<<<< LIKE & SUBSCRIBE <<<<< Consider that this song is ten iterations of a pattern, representing the hands of the laborer as well as ten-based systems of measurement. Credits: -------------------------- PS Perkins: Guitars, bass, vocals, floor tom set 2, howl 1 R Thomas: Synth Guitars, backup vocals, floor tom set 1, snare drum, hi hats, howl 2 Mixed and Mastered by Mystic Tape Deck Lyrics -------------------------- I cut the tree and I hammer the nail I fetch the water and I carry the pail Harvest the wheat, and I bundle the bale Fasten the saddle, the bridle and bit I shoe the horses and I shovel their shit I dig forever in the bottomless pit I'm turning wrenches and I'm fueling the jet My brow is furrowed and it's blistered with sweat I'm on a boat with a hook and a net I'm in the engine room, I'm driving the train I'm climbing poles in the wind and the rain I load containers from a towering crane Repair the derricks for the men who get paid I'm tugging triples up a slippery grade I built the factory where the factories are made I'm in the kitchen now preparing your meal With hogs to slaughter and potatoes to peel I hone the blade and I sharpen the steel

Now what may foeman's malice do to harm us? What, O Immortal, mortal man's deception? Absorbed into the heart, be sweet, O Indu, as a kind father to his son, O Soma, As a wise Friend to friend: do thou, wide-ruler, O Soma, lengthen out our days for living. These glorious drops that give me freedom have I drunk. Closely they knit my joints as straps secure a chariot. Let them protect my foot from slipping on the way: yea, let the drops I drink preserve me from disease. Make me shine bright like fire produced by friction: give us a clearer sight and make us better. Our maladies have lost their strength and vanished: they feared, and passed away into the darkness. Soma hath risen in us, exceeding mighty, and we are come where men prolong existence. Fathers, that Indu which our hearts have drunken, Immortal in himself, hath entered mortals. So let us serve this Soma with oblation, and rest securely in his grace and favor. Associate with the Fathers thou, O Soma, hast spread thyself abroad through earth and heaven. Rig Veda HYMN XLVIII. Soma. -------------------------------------- Lyrics: Deep under the mountain, the mechanical birth Kissed by the sky, touched by the Earth Emerging from the darkness to hold back the waters with a snake... Drawn from the stone, forged in the flame Hammered at the anvil and tempered by the rain Points for the arrows to penetrate the scales of a snake... To penetrate the scales of the snake We sought the protector, we sipped of the nectar We've gone to the light where we all live forever We've gone to the Gods – what use are enemies now? Oh, what use are enemies now? These artifacts of war will outlast us all In the past where we've flown, in the future we crawl Back into the womb, what could they take from us now? Oh, what could they take from us now? Rustling in the reeds around the lake Whispers of the law we never break Oh, the many hammer strokes upon the stake Eye of bat, tongue of newt, wing of snake There is only the law..... -------------------------------------- Drums, cymbals, assorted cookie sheets, rubbermaid 50 gallon trash can full of empty aluminum cans (the can can), keyboard/synths, marching, thunder can, misc percussion – R Thomas Guitars, bass, string arrangements, assorted cookie sheets, rain stick, samples, broken zither, vocals, marching, programming, lyrics, artwork – PS Perkins Marching, assorted cookie sheets – Sabin Thomas Mixed and mastered by PS Perkins and R Thomas

"The Roadside Ghost" by PS Perkins and R Thomas Guitars, bass, vocals, synths: PS Perkins Drums, percussion: R Thomas Featuring Wendy DuMond aka "Bog Witch" aka @mamby-p on phantom background vocals LYRICS: --------------------- Out on the street, people you'll never meet Struggling just to survive You wouldn't want to be them, pretend you don't see them, Just roll up your windows and drive But the ghosts are not dead, and they're not in your head They're just waiting right there to be seen There's no way of knowing and the rowers keep rowing Going somewhere that you've never been Whoa, weary walkers, may I lighten your load? The night is so long and you're hearing my song As you sleep at the side of the road Whoa, weary walkers! How may I lighten your load? The days turn to ash with no cars whizzing past Where only the strangers belong The desert is wide, and then once you're inside You are hypnotized by its song With a guitar to strum, the ghost sticks out its thumb But it no longer hopes for a ride Just shuffles along to the beat of the song To lie down by the river side, dreaming.... Whoa, weary walkers, may I lighten your load? The night is so long and you're hearing my song As you sleep at the side of the road Whoa, weary walkers! How may I lighten your load? With silence to ponder it's hard not to wander Your mind becomes vacant and free No matter the cost, all who wander are lost Swallowed up by the sagebrush sea Your forever host is the roadside ghost And it's broadcasting now on the breeze You'll see there's no choice, there is only the voice: "Follow me, follow me, follow me....." Singing Whoa, weary walkers, may I lighten your load? The night is so long and you're hearing my song As you sleep at the side of the road Whoa, weary walkers! How may I lighten your load?

READ THE ACCOMPANYING POEM HERE >> https://mystictapedeck.com/bards/the-gravedigger/ All drums and percussion: R Thomas Guitars, synths, scraping sounds, vocals, bass, lyre, slide lyre, lyrics: PS Perkins Mix and master by PS Perkins and R Thomas E'en that... Who'll supply the shovels used to split the sacred soil? And who will help the spirit shuffle off this mortal coil? Who'll embalm the body, who will mummify the husk? And who will sail the flaming ship into the drowning dusk? And who will dig the grave digger's grave? Who will dig the grave diggers grave? Who will dig the grave diggers grave? Who will bury them? Who is going to drive the hearse and consecrate the wine? Who is going to build the box from the gnarled and knotty pine? Who will be the artifex to decorate the tomb? And who will bribe the jackal waiting at the gates of doom? And who will dig the grave digger's grave? Who will dig the grave diggers grave? Who will dig the grave diggers grave? Who will bury them? E'en that... "In youth, when I did love, did love, Methought it was very sweet, To contract, O, the time, for, ah, my behove, O, methought, there was nothing meet."* But age, with it's stealing steps Hath clawed me in it's clutches Age, with its stealing steps. E'en that... *From Shakespeare's Hamlet Act 5

Read the short story which accompanies this song here: >>>> https://mystictapedeck.com/bards/the-forest-witch-2/ <<<< All instruments, mix and production by PS Perkins and R Thomas LYRICS --------------------- Fare thee well, on a bell, may I spill you a tear? See the storm clouds approaching? Hear the riders drawing near? The bishop has sent forth all their bloodthirsty pawns To capture your head, and to cast it to bronze, on a bell Were you healing the sick? Were you raising the dead? Won't you tell me, on a bell, what they'd want with your head? Did you fly like a bird? Did you buzz like a bee? Did you frolic with the faeries and talk to the trees? On a bell, on a bell, from the woods where you dwell Can you heal me on a bell, put me under your spell On a bell, on a bell, ringing through your shady dell Can you tell me, on a bell, who they're sending to hell? On a bell. Can you heal me on a bell, gaze deep in my soul As we follow three hares down their dark and twisted holes? And so, on a bell, as we go around again The ending is where all beginnings begin On a bell, on a bell, from the woods where you dwell Can you heal me on a bell, put me under your spell On a bell, on a bell, ringing through your shady dell Can you tell me, on a bell, who they're sending to hell? On a bell.

The Askesis of Diogenes. Yeah, we're literally writing songs about ancient Greek philosophers now. https://iep.utm.edu/diogenes-of-sinope/ Drums, percussion, mixing: R Thomas Guitars, Melodica, Bass, Vocal, MIDI, mixing: PS Perkins The Poem: https://mystictapedeck.com/bards/the-cynic/ ------------- LYRICS ------------- Adrift In a world that you can't comprehend As you shuffle down sidewalks you used to defend And pick through the garbage from parties you no longer attend You know you're a stranger in still stranger lands Where the crumbling monuments once used to stand And they look at you funny when you ask them where to find an honest man When you're gone, long, long gone When they try to dismiss you, you piss on their shoes As they fondle their falsehoods and call them the truth If only the hunger in our bellies were so easily soothed But you are not like them and you don't even try No matter how rotten, you can't make them cry You're as real as their shadows but they'll never understand why Until you're gone, long, long gone So you eat in the market and sleep in a hole You drink from your hands now instead of a bowl Stand naked before them to show how the years take their toll And when the wild dogs come to nip at your legs And the passing onlookers who expect you to beg But your life was a promise and it's far too late now to renege And then you're gone, long, long gone

Good mouth feel, aromatic bouquet. Contains the essence of everything. Story/Poem: https://mystictapedeck.com/songs/the-vintner/ Guitars, Bass, 17 string Lyre, Vocals, Percussion, Programming: PS Perkins Drums, percussion: R Thomas Mixed by PS Perkins and R Thomas =========================== LYRICS =========================== it's in the air it's in the seed it's in the want it's in the need it's in the bottle it's in the breath it's in the word it's in the mouse it's in the bird it's in the bottle All we sow All we grow Everything which ripens in the sun All who bleed All with seed Everything is soil when it comes undone it's in the soil it's in the root it's in the stem it's in the fruit it's in the bottle it's in the stars it's in the sky it's in the truth it's in the lie it's in the bottle All we sow All we grow Everything which ripens in the sun All who bleed All with seed Everything is soil when it comes undone it's in the will it's in the feral it's in the still it's in the barrel it's in the bottle it's in the heart it's in the mind it's in the stomach it's in the spine it's in the bottle it's in the thorn it's in the rose it's on your tongue it's in your nose it's in the bottle it's in the book it's on the wall it's in the jump it's in the fall it's in the bottle

While we wait for BARDS: Of The Shimmering Seraphs to finish physical production, in the meantime we are forging ahead with a new crop of songs for the next album. The next album will serve as a continuation of the oracle deck concept, featuring songs about "objects" - the first of which be this little song about the magical horn of the elusive and beautiful Aardvark Girl. It is also about a recently discovered strange dwarf planet at the farthest reaches of our solar system. Gǃkúnǁʼhòmdímà was discovered on 19 Oct 2007 at the Palomar observatory in California, at 9:09 UT. Gkunhomdima is a member of the extended scattered disc and is a trans-Neptunian object (TNO). Its orbit is inclined 23° off the ecliptic and is quite elliptical. It was knocked out of a normal orbit early in the history of the solar system, probably as Neptune migrated outward to its current position, which gives the high inclination of Gkunhomdima’s orbit. However, there is no known orbital resonance with any other planetary body, except for its binary companion. Its ‘moon’, or secondary is called G!o’e !Hu (pronounced GOH ay KOO). Goeku means ‘horn’, or Oryx horn. And that takes us to a bit of mythology. Gǃkúnǁʼhòmdímà is also the Beautiful Aardvark Girl of Juǀʼhoan mythology, who sometimes appears in the stories of other San peoples as a python girl or elephant girl; she defends her people and punishes wrongdoers using gǁámígǁàmì spines [devil’s thorn plant], a rain-cloud full of hail, and her magical oryx horn. Drums and percussion, keyboards, backup vocals: R Thomas Guitars, Mandolin, Melodica, Bass, Lead vocals, backup vocals: PS Perkins LYRICS: ------------------------------- Aardvark girl, come trumpet your horn Bellow your clarion call Summon your dark and impenetrable cloud And let your hailstones fall Are we just ants crawling around on the ground Are we just termites in a crumbling mound Scatter the poisoned thorns in their lane May they tread upon those in their path The stinging in their feet shall remind them They’ll be dead before their next bath Aardvark girl burrow down in your den The night will be ending soon The Oryx are gathered at the watering hole And your face is in the moon Are we just ants crawling around on the ground Are we just termites in a crumbling mound We are just ants crawling around on the ground We are just termites in a crumbling mound

The final track from our forthcoming third album in the BARDS series, "BARDS: Of The Shimmering Seraphs" 76 minute CD + 52 page full color book with original illustrations, lyrics, liner notes, and expansion poems. Each track is a major paragon from a custom tarot deck in the works. The album/book will be available in another month or so. Keep your ears peeled for updates. There will be SIGNS. https://mystictapedeck.com/bards/the-dark-twins/

Collab w the great @Tea_are_sea (source tracks) FREE DOWNLOADS ENABLED PS Perkins of Mystic Tape Deck: Lyrics, Guitar, Robot Drums, Slice n Dicer, Salad Spinner, Snuggling Bears, Toenail Creams ----------------------------------------------- Soundless syllables tumble from clacking keyboards No breath behind them, no flapping meat of tongue No hiss of air squirting through saliva moistened glands Words hurled into the ether, never piercing air Just a void of space between screen and brain And endless war, all around us human suffering Rattling guns spraying hot globs of lethal loathing Led by lecherous liars, far removed in boardrooms Rolling across their polished marble floors In luxurious leather chairs Sprays of spittle, squabbling over jagged graphs Submerged in sticky syrups Selling toenail creams Stain removers, starchy stiffeners, snuggling bears Glitter ponies gliding through morning scented meadows Where the wallet fruit hang ripe, heavy and sweet with sap Honey dripping from their checkbooks Self appointed, self anointed deities, hidden dealers of death Life affirming, fate confirming algorithmic determinations Bloated words, puffy and gaseous, Farting out of flaring mouths Exhaust pipes roaring, belching blackened clouds The song of industry now ineludible, vibrational prisons Noxious noise where a hundred years ago there was silence Murmuring melodies of malodorous murder machines Something to sell you, something to tell you Coins to jingle gently in your pocket As gluttonous gobs drip with drool Leaving slobbery stains and muddy smears Ground into the social fabric By the twisting intemperate heels Of four thousand dollar shoes

This is an old song, originally written in 1992 or '93 while on a hitchhiking trip through the Nevada desert from Boise to Tucson Arizona. It took my friend and I eight days on the road to travel about 700 miles. The title is a reference to the two of us standing on opposite sides of the highway, willing to take a ride any direction as long as it got us out of there. It's about desperation, resignation, freedom, harassment, and finding beauty in the midst of extremes. It is an experience I will personally never forget, and I have written the story once before but it was destroyed when a computer crashed and literally caught on fire before I could print it. In the last few years I have started to try and tackle writing it again, and I stalled out a bit. Maybe revisiting this song will help inspire me to finish documenting the tale? You can read what there is of it here: https://twowaythumb.wordpress.com/ Ron and I originally recorded this song with our old band Godzoundz, but it was only ever released on a very limited cassette run. We decided a while back that we should chip away at re-recording these songs and try to give them their due as it was all pretty deep underground back then. So here's the first one of those. Our basement studio flooded a couple weeks ago and production has been temporarily slowed, so we thought we'd trot out some of these oddities and misfits while we chip away at reworking our studio and getting it put back together. Hope you enjoy!

Atlanta’s “Bog Witch” and Boise’s “Mystic Tape Deck” announce the release of a new collaborative single, “Dogs of Chernobyl” to mark the anniversary of the Chernobyl Disaster. Following the April 26, 1986 nuclear accident, the City of Pripyat was evacuated. The residents were forced to leave their pets (including domestic dogs) behind. Nearly 40 years after the accident, the descendants of these dogs are still living in the Exclusion Zone and a study is currently taking place. Scientists are sampling the DNA of the dogs. Apparently, their DNA is irregular in some interesting ways. Wendy writes “I couldn’t sleep one night and picked-up my phone to surf when I noticed an article about the radioactive dogs of Chernobyl. Right away it seemed like a song.” Wendy invited Mystic Tape Deck to collaborate with her in creating the sonic pallet for this song, the proceeds from all sales of which will be donated to the Clean Futures Fund. The Clean Futures Fund relies upon donations to provide medical supplies, vaccines, and food for the dogs living in the Exclusion Zone. Donate $1 or more to the Clean Futures Fund via Bandcamp and receive a download of the single:
https://mystictapedeck.bandcamp.com/track/dogs-of-chernobyl Find out more about the Clean Futures Fund: https://www.cleanfutures.org/dogs-of-chernobyl/ Wendy DuMond: Lyrics, Acoustic Guitar, Vocals PS Perkins: Electric Guitars, Bass, mallet snare, cymbal stack, midi Ron Thomas: Drums, hand drums, shakers Song by Wendy DuMond
 Produced, engineered, and mixed by Mystic Tape Deck Mastered by Sid Hagan https://soundcloud.com/mamby-p https://soundcloud.com/mystictapedeck https://mystictapedeck.com http://www.okthenrecords.us/

VIDEO: https://youtu.be/W8TQxNqow7o The video pretty much explains everything. Now available via Bandcamp here: https://mystictapedeck.bandcamp.com/album/bards-of-the-next-revolution 100% of your faithful tithing supports our global outreach ministries.

Strange things have been arriving in plain packages. A couple weeks ago we received this tape in an unmarked post, we can only guess at who is sending these to us. Side A is marked "4-12-85 Ashland" and appears to be a recording of a strange presentation and meditation service evidently held in "conference room B of the Holiday Inn and Suites of Ashland Oregon." We know from our in-house Nazilic historian that The Cloak were doing some pretty intense recruiting seminars up and down the I-5 corridor during the mid 80's and early 90's, we can only assume this is a recording of one of these seminars from someone who attended. Still a lot of conjecture on our part as to the exact nature and source of this recording, but we thought some of our listeners might be deeply interested in hearing it. This was the only thing relevant on the first side, it was apparently taped over, it cuts away in the middle of a home taping of the Scorpions "Animal Magnetism" album. Wait until you you hear what is on SIDE B!

The faceless, soulless capitalist cabal offers its sincerest condolences and apologies for monetizing life itself, but the apology is hollow and meaningless, falling upon decidedly unsympathetic ears. How might it sound if our global corporate overlords offered their most lizard-heart-felt apologies for any "inconvenience" their greed and avarice have brought upon our lives? We think it might sound pretty insincere. You know, like a gaslighting apology: "We're sorry you feel that way." There may be an official apology "issued" but culpability is nowhere in sight. This song started as an innocent and good natured attempt on our part to collaborate with Holy Shitshow @user-649412648 who provided the original piece months ago which inspired this whole crazy chain of events. Next thing we knew, it was this whole song and the raft had drifted pretty far away from collaboration island in the process. We still used the piece in the song, and we are grateful for HS to be a part of it in the end. We think it made for a great foundation and love the ambiance it provides to the whole song. Riunite on ice, that's nice! https://youtu.be/_onOllDF2GY We dig Holy Shitshow's music deeply, so please hear the original here and we hope you show some love their direction as well: https://soundcloud.com/user-649412648/northwestsoutheast-first-wave-open-collab This track also features some special guests: On the flute we have Nick Collias On the saxophone we have @metal-mark Mark Wand Guitar, ukulele, bass guitar, omnichord, keyboards, melodica, samples, vocals, mix & master, Artwork by PS Perkins Drums and percussion, mixing assist by R Thomas (@analog-shack)

A showdown with the great white dragon, who has awoken from a thousand years of slumber and is hoarding of all the world’s wealth. Dragons are made to be vanquished but they never go down easily without a fight.

We worked pretty hard on this percussion and drum arrangement. As I was putting the final touches on the mix I started liking listening to it reduced in various ways. Here is the whole song reduced (mostly) to just the drum parts. I left some of the synth stuff in there on this run to give it a little color. This is a drum take, three floor tom overdubs, various trashy snare sounds both real and manufactured, some triggers, samples, and manually sequenced electronic percussion stuff I wrote on the piano roll in the daw. Hope you enjoy this, the finished track from our end is coming next. I have enabled downloads on this in case you want to do something of your own on it. Slice and dice it, chop it up, use parts of it - whatever. It is fairly well on the grid and I think it is 90bpm though I am not entirely certain of that because I forgot to look before I uploaded it lol. Time signatures are weird. 9/4 and 5/4 and 4/4 alternating. If you need something removed just shoot me a message and I will mute whatever track and burn you a new mix even. That's how nice we are. If you do something with it, please let us know, send us the link, and remember to give attribution to "Mystic Tape Deck."

A revolution is simmering in the underground, but it must be kept quiet. If the plans are discovered it could spell the end of the resistance and perhaps all human life as we know it.

The Shining One names their immortal self “Micaloz” and undergoes many developmental evolutions which resemble the stages of a larger pattern of development found across the various lifeforms of Earth. Instruments used here: - washing machine - can of air duster spray - mizmar (synth) - mellotron (synth) - bone tree/bamboo clackers - Christmas bell bouncing inside an octagonal hand stretched goat hide drum - furnace sounds - large metal bowl with water in it - miscellaneous digital beeps and bloops - guitars: electric and acoustic - bass guitar - drum kit - small hand drum - tambourine - flute (Nick Collias) - melodica - the entire last BARDS album sped up 13x - digital piano - Melissa and Doug toy piano - steel drum - vocals - spoken word samples - Hindi words read by google translate

Undergoing a baptismal rite of The Cloak might resemble something like this song describes. There is not much colloquial knowledge regarding the secret rituals of the Cloak, though many may imagine.

We did this as an exclusive track to benefit local community radio station KRBX during Radiothon 2020. This is a non-album track and will only be found here and on the special compilation CD for KRBX. Special thanks to DJ Joe Black and Sonic Mushroom Cloud for playing us on your show and allowing us to be a part of supporting our local community radio station.

Boundless, infinite divine love. It cannot be bottled, sold, exchanged, or in any way quantified. Love is non mathematical and sewn into our dna - whispered into our fabric by our pseudo-mechanical creators.

The great hidden secrets are knowable only by those who have awakened to the iterative time stream. A traditional gospel tune which accidentally got it right.

The misanthropic urge is an urge of defeat, and the urge to be defeated. Of all our various trappings and flaws, our biggest mistake is in not believing in our own capacity for growth and kindness.

The pseudo mechanical creators inside the factory where humans are assembled and genetic materials are printed from the codex delivered in the fallen capsule.

Humanity has a strong will to fight when it comes to survival. Is it strong enough to survive the fight inside ourselves? If we can believe we are more, we can fight beyond our last stone. This song was originally intended to appear on the "Idafolk And Friends" compilation ( Two volumes FREE from Bandcamp, highly recommended. Here: https://idafolkandfriends.bandcamp.com/album/idafolk-and-friends-2020-volume-ii ) but we just needed more time to work it out. This was written in mid 2019, before the covid-19 pandemic broke out, making this song "accidentally topical" now. BARDS are often prescient and operate outside the boundaries of the common linear perception of time. All of this has already happened. If you write about the end of the world long enough, sooner or later, you are bound to be topical.

With its life giving breath, Kothar-wa-Khasis imbues humanity with the divine impulse, a curiosity and appreciation for beauty, and a set of archetypal symbols to draw upon.

The human race is once again created through the culmination of cosmological coincidence and deterministic cause and effect.

Keepers of the Key are an all acoustic BARDS tribute band. This is a live performance, with no overdubs. Rough take number one.

This song features special guest John Floy @john-markham-2 on lead guitar

Eden Is Emptied by Mystic Tape Deck

The streets are all empty with no one to roam Nobody is knocking, and there’s no one at home All the soft comforts have turned into stone An empty can rattles amongst mountains of bones How could they have known they were on the eve of destruction? Never any winners in the games that they played Binding no mercy in the gods they portrayed Their hearts became empty, alone and afraid Standing for nothing, their purpose decayed Their bed had been made, they were on the eve of destruction Brandishing axes, chopping down trees To carve out the ark now adrift on the seas But it’s sails remain empty, they capture no breeze Millions of people asleep on their knees Refusing to see, they were on the eve of destruction The pyres were assembled and soon set to flame To Burn all the witches they had chosen to blame Shouting in anger their pride knew no shame Reducing to ashes what they could not tame It’s always the same, upon the eve of destruction How could they know they were on the eve of destruction No seed left to sow, they were on the eve of destruction Someone to blame upon the eve of destruction It’s always the same upon the eve of destruction

Cumulus Cloud (Part One: Convection) by Mystic Tape Deck

The Shining One manifests as a diabolical and murderous self-help guru.

All you fallen down spirits, come rise from your stoned over graves Come and dance to the firelight as it flickers across the walls of my cave Stone grown to bone, intone simulacra whose shadows disconnect Draw breath and draw pause to the laws of cause and effect Nothing can breathe in this air Statues of lovers whose eyes remain locked in a stare Something is coming I can smell it on the breeze Something which frightens the animal in me Shot through the heart with your poison-tipped arrows And the eyes of the eagle are fixed on the sparrow Burning the maps and connections to lands long forgot All the loose ends to be swept up and tied in a knot Oceans of causes which ripple and steadily swell All of us captured, enraptured, still under the spell Nothing can grow in this soil Earth has been salted and yet we unceasingly toil Something is coming, I can hear it in the night Stalking in the shadows with its eyes glowing bright Sewn into our comforts, we do as we please Treating the symptoms, ignoring the disease...

The Panspermic Abiogenesis Of Gaia (Album Version) by Mystic Tape Deck

Hunting Season by Mystic Tape Deck

Featuring "Metal" Mark Holt on tenor sax @metal-mark

Cumulus Cloud (Part Three: Precipitation) by Mystic Tape Deck