Gil Scott-Heron - ...And Then He Wrote Meditations by Gil Scott-Heron lyrics

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Gil Scott-Heron - ...And Then He Wrote Meditations by Gil Scott-Heron lyrics

Straddling the darkness, he controlled the bucking thrusts and rode on Into the emptiness that he alone would try to fill Into the middle to try and be the bridge between spirits “Expand” he screamed The vacuum was aroused, suspicious and alarmed: Who would dare? But on he rode The tailwinds were from Africa The ba** and force were timeless rhythms that restructured beat and consciousness The chasms between seconds Were made real and whole New targets imploded within the boy, holes were punctured through ebony nothingness And resistance increased, walls appeared - Rise up train, the answer is just beyond the next wall Rise up train, the answer is just Beyond the next wall The train rose up No one had ever so thoroughly defied the night The crosswinds were from the east Lyrical a**essments, harmonic sirens that called, cut deep into never-seen but half-remembered desires Is there a reincarnation oh lord? Do I recognise a part of me that is dying In the crevices of all this bleak skulls Lying conceptionless here Non-existence attacks the man “Go back intrude! you are not welcome here! We have no need for your emotions here We have no emotions here.” But obscurity was losing its grip The inky blackness gave way to grey shadows The canvas of limbo became a veil Porous and smoking from the heat As rays of light touched upon never before illuminated concern The screams grew louder The once placid nightmare of soundlessness was crumbling Giving way to cries: “go back! - go back! - go back!” And screams of pain and anger In this the place you seek, black traveller, he was asked, in this place we will tear the flesh from your body, here we will gladly crush your skull pour acid on your exposed and rotting brain, but we never let you die We hold you here alone and worst of all aware of all that we do to you - We hold you captive here in hell “But come” said the wind - The threats were not the only sound - The faint throb of warmth that lay vibrating just beyond the horror of hell Was a magnet pulling and reaching, drawing him on “Come, hell is past for you” said the wind And the rhythms of heaven absorbed him A love supreme A love supreme A love supreme A love supreme And then John Coltrane wrote meditations --- .