HIMALAYAN PROJECT

HIMALAYAN PROJECT - The Wrath Of Lomas lyrics

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[Chee Malabar]

Birdland mindframe, feelin' like it's circa 1962

the way she moved through the room, whistling a gloomy tune

the same repetition of that sad riff

I approached half passive, asked if, it was a blue note classic

She smiled, batted her lashes, "Close but no, it's something I wrote

Called The Wrath of Lomas"

A song for her pops, she explained, "He used to be a jazz saxophonist

Coked and doped, at the height of his solstice

So much so, you could smell, the stench of crack on his magnum opus"

Her fingertips slid over the bottle of corona, she sunk back in a sofa

Uh, lit a blunt took a puff

my mind was still on the last living days of, Shaka Sankofa

"Papa was a soldier, a Panther. Mama said in his eyes lied the fury of storms"

Her tone of voice, cut through the air like stones thrown by half grown

Palestinian boys, armed with no choice- composed her poise then

Relaxed back to her old wistful form

"Music's the canvas and here's where the story's redrawn

A few years 'fore his first son was born"

ummm, she paused lookin' lost then rubbed her temple

Then spoke in this gentle tempo, "Mama always knew

Whenever the rents due, she would find him in his room, being in a tense mood

Leaning over a bent spoon, heaping with hell's sugar, musical notes he wrote

Scribbled on walls, half empty bottles of alcohol in the hall

She found other women's numbers, bra's, draws"

Pause, "but then came the summer of loss- his pop's died his brother too

Lomas moved from tune to tune, different spots, performing

Till he met one of the baddest drummers up north

In a matter of weeks they formed a quintet", she said with a slight pride

Her eyes, wide as her smile, "My father had a purpose now, his vices were gone

I can still hear the slices of life in those very psalms, calm

Just a man confessin' thru the sax, but then, then came the wartime draft"

"To me", she said, "That was the end of his jazz

I'm talkin' bout what he saw out there, in Vietnam"

It left Lomas' heart, weathered, worn and torn

Imagine being shown the evil sins of men, returning home to lynchings, protests

"Ever since then", she said, "In his life he had

smack in his glands, his sax playing the angst

Of lost African lands, rain dances with ghosts who fancied his nose

I guess thru me, his past was reborn, he passed on

And all I did was pawn his sax, his wax and brass horn"

[Rainman]

From the corner I soaked – in the aroma of jazz and smokes

And scanned for a second through the expanse of folks

It led my mind to remember the last time I took a stand in the land of hope

In '68, I was 25 in a band with Lom'

Cooking the Village Van with two - sticks in my hand and my man on the saxophone

This kid was Mississippi, mix with masala, curry colored

Half tipsy, twisted

Toothpick slim, smelling like he was dipped in whiskey

With a wistful voice that match the tenor of his sax, the tone

Resonated the thoughts of a man who lost his home

Echoed like the shots that rang through our ears that year

From Vietnam, Memphis to Camelot, the tears fell

Like our fates in the years to come

Newport, 7-1, was where we saw her face

Her name was Sophie and her walk was grace

Talk was laced with poetic thoughts

lost in the same place that my sax man played from

She had me tranced and chasing and I caught

Something amazing when I snared her love

But jealousy is the state that our fears become

When we trust in one, she makes love to another and she bares a son of reflects

The essence of the nearest one to a brother from my peers the stun

Of the moment took my breath like it pieced a lung

I was stung, cause this kid

He looked like he was Lomas' son

That night, back stage at the club as I prepared to drum

I told him, "It's a boy Lomas, now tell me where's my gun?"

I let him look while the barrel straight stared at him

But his eyes, they shared a look with no fear in them

He had some words of regret

I said, "Your boy's name is Trent"

And then I told him "Tonight we play the set

And this here's a grand from my pocket for you to pay the rent

Get bent or straighten up your life

Take my wedding band too if you still to light, my friend

Take my wife, if she'll have you

Take the wrath of your talent and damn you

Take my name from your lips and never use it again"

That night, you know we shined like gems

I found rhythms that had Lomas on the loose

Flying within, every mind that could listen to hymns

And all the while… I couldn't wait for the music to end

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