American Requiem III - Lyrics

for vocal soloists, mixed choir, large symphony orchestra and tape-recorder
lyrics by T.S. Eliot ("The Journey of the Magi"), and anonymous authors
version 2, 2010

White Mass

The Journey of the Magi
by T.S. Eliot

The Epiphany

A cold coming we had of it,
Just the worst time of the year
For a journey, and such a long journey:
The ways deep and the weather sharp,
The very dead of winter.
And the camels galled, sore-footed, refractory,
Lying down in the melting snow.
There were times when we regretted
The summer palaces on slopes, the terraces,
And the silken girls bringing sherbet.
Then the camel men cursing and grumbling
And running away, and wanting their liquor and women,
And the night-fires going out, and the lack of shelters,
And the cities hostile and the towns unfriendly
And the villages dirty and charging high prices:
A hard time we had of it.
At the end we preferred to travel all night,
Sleeping in snatches,
With the voices singing in our ears, saying
That this was all folly.

Then at down we came down to a temperate valley,
Wet, below the snow line, smelling of vegetation;
With a running stream and a water mill beating the darkness,
And three trees on the low sky,
And an old white horse galloped away in the meadow.
Then we came to a tavern with vine-leaves over the lintel,
Six hands at an open door dicing for pieces of silver,
And feet kicking the empty wineskins.
But there was no information, and so we continued
And arrived at evening, not a moment too soon
Finding the place; it was (you may say) satisfactory.

All this was a long time ago, I remember,
And I would do it again, but set down
This set down
This: were we led all that way for
Birth or Death? There was a Birth, certainly,
We had evidence and no doubt. I had seen birth and death,
But had thought they were different; this Birth was
Hard and bitter agony for us, like Death, our death.
We returned to our places, these Kingdoms,
But no longer at ease here, in the old dispensation,
With an alien people clutching their gods.
I should be glad of another death.

Black Mass

Most texts were taken from the walls of public restrooms, websites of local sex clubs and other sources in the USA. Authors of the lyrics are unknown.

1. Pop - up!

pp. 13-19

Boy: Ahhhh...ah ah ahahahah. Daddy! Your dog is hurting me. Oh wow... oh golly...
Ah ah ah Ahahahahah...The doggy hurts! It hurts. Ah.....ah..
Priest: I am not a dog. I'm your Confessor.

2. Life to Enjoy

pp. 20 - 31

A sex club in Beverly Hills. An internet announcement:

Doggy style is getting popular, so sign up today! If you'd love to meet a dog for stupendous fucking, leave your name and number on the waiting list below. His name is San Diego and he's had all his shots. Please bring a health certificate with you when you COME. Sweet dreams, lie down, roll over!

3. From the Holy Scripture of the Golden Calf Church

Psalm #151

pp. 32 - 41

Time of Midnight
Time of full Moon
Opens up a Sacred Place...
Gold and cash and shares piling
Are my Holy Gold'n Calf Mass.

I can kill and die for money,
It doesn't smell - no fuckin' shit:
It's right on - extort, screw over,
Keep that smile on greedy face...

Ejaculating every time,
When gold is ringing in my hands,
I worship you, oh Golden Calf,
With hope, love and faith!

4. Human Rights

pp. 42 - 46

My day begins with a routine -
I learned for half my life -
To be a part of dead machine
And spread the vileness wide.

My day ends with a routine:
I'm zealous, teaching folks
What human rights are meant to be
And how freedom works:

Sit and shit for an hour.
Grab your dick. Feel the power.
Wipe your ass when you're done.
Come again. Have some fun.

5 and 8. Twenty Minutes - Twenty Dollars

pp. 47, 61

West Hollywood. A hotel on Sunset Blvd. Shortly after midnight, a gentleman with red makeup on his cheeks is knocking every door:

boom, boom, boom - "Twenty minutes - twenty dollars. Sir... Twenty minutes - twenty dollars!" and so on. Eventually the man with red cheeks gets an answer: "Come in!"

6. Wonder Kid

pp. 48 - 52

A teacher of a sexual education class at an elementary school is talking to a parent:

- I heard your little one already makes big bucks as a porno movie star. It is amazing how advanced kids are today! We weren't so smart at her age. Were we? Don't forget to bring her to our sexual education class at the elementary. It would be great to watch kids discussing the first experiences of their lives! Remember: professionalism is above all other things!

7. Shut the Fuck Up!

pp. 53 - 55

by an old republican

Shut the fuck up!
Are you out of your fucking mind?
Don't you fucking understand me?
Are you a fucking Marxist, or fucking democrat?
I doubt you know who the fuck you are!
Do you support Osama bin Laden?... What?
Listen to me! I said: "Listen to me!"
You dumb fucking moron!
You stupid fucking retard!
You gullible little fuck!
Don't you fucking comprehend?

9. We Are So Glad That You Are Sad!

pp. 56 - 61

We are so glad, that you are sad.
We are so glad, that you are sad.
It makes us feel such bloody joy
To see again, that you are sad.

The new tombs rising on the Earth
Are generating sales.
What a joyful celebration
We have dancing on your graves!

We are so glad, that you are sad.
We are so glad, that you are sad.
It makes us feel such bloody joy
To see again, that you are sad.

10. Hymn of Love

pp. 62 - 68

Found on the wall of a restroom in the Music Department of Southern Oregon University, Ashland. A naked man, with an enormous ass, was drawn on the same wall. He plays the saxophone.

Oh Bill,

Your ass is the most magnificent creation on the face of Earth!
There isn't another man who's ass compares with yours!
And I would say this even if I had complete emotional detachment and didn't love you.
There is simply no question...
I like to stick my tongue inside your ass and taste you. You are so sweet and gentle. I love making love to you.