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Tear your holy buildings down, you’d do better sitting on the ground
You care more for bricks and mortar than your ma and all her daughters
Holy holy are you feeling holy yet holy holy your plowshares bent into bayonettes

Everybodys got to believe in something so they give you a rope and away you swing
But take a quiet minute and look inside see how you’ve been cheated on that 10 cent ride
Holy holy are you feeling holy still holy holy someone pushing all your buttons for their power thrill

Only taught to memorize now we can’t tell the truth from lies
Trained to run and jump and hide perfect little soldiers for whosever side

Everybody’s got to believe in something the great hereafter of the big brass ring
But you care more for obedience than for love or common sense
Holy holy are you feeling holier holy holy ain’t nobody righteous in a holy war

I’ve felt peace in a Muezin’s call I’ve felt peace in a Christian hall
I’ve felt peace in a grove of trees ain’t no peace in bringing someone to their knees
Holy holy peace is only real when we give more than take
Holy holy that’s what all the radical prophets say – didn’t they?


from Sigh Semaphore, released January 1, 2006


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Myshkin Warbler Astoria, Oregon

Myshkin and an ever-evolving crew of restless gamblers—string, horn, drum, key, and and wave players. Passions range from tango to electronica, folk-noir to gypsy-swing to modern classical to rocknroll. Literate & spooky. Myshkin mostly plays guitars. When warm, she sings like a shiver down your chakras. Like a heart breaking all wide open. Like one in utter control of uncontrollable things. ... more

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