LOCKDOWN SIEBEN VOLUME 10

by Sieben

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1.
Ogham in the Ground We fought death in the field fired with our spark. We said we’d out-do death armed with gods and bark. We saw death in the field and ciphered in the stars. He said he’d plant a seed to show us how it ends is how it must start. On the seed he scribed in brown ‘touch death gingerly’. Per fess his bony hand, slit-throat Grauballe. Ageless he presses Lindow, our compressed woe, leather strap futhark oghamed in the ground. And he planted the seed in Århus soil. Seed belly harnessed to the toil. He carved the face from peat, sleeping palimpsest. Formed the mouth as his own: Tired of the living. And he crowned his king Mud Regulus to rule, gold of plenty to grow, our fears to fuel. And he planted the seed in Århus soil. Seed belly harnessed to the toil. And he planted the seed in Århus soil. Seed belly noosed to the field.
2.
Can't Stop This Can't stop this. Star wood brick firmament. Can't stop this. Star wood brick firmament. Star, wood, brick, star, wood, brick, star, wood, brick, star, wood, brick, star, wood, brick, star, wood, brick, firmament.
3.
Handfasting 05:58
Handfasting Man is no inverted tree his roots not in heaven bedded, charlock firmly to the soil, bindweed nion to rock and field. Not to rail against the sky spread our leaves to catch the light. Once woad in bluebell wood the world was home, the larch was hewn. Once woad in bluebell will the world was home, the eyebright sown. Wood will! Wood will! Man is no germless seed ripped from a rib indebted, sharp as shepherd’s needle need hitched us to the fields we wedded. Not to rail against the night our woodruff chant our wood will ply. Once woad in bluebell wood the world was home, the larch was hewn. Once woad in bluebell will the world was home, the eyebright sown.
4.
Sacrifice Content One stone knight, eagles guard his side. Here the Gods toss fire and mortals sleep. One stone knight, face in opposition. Here the Gods tossed fire and mortal wept. Here the Gods set stone and mortals built. Here the Gods set light and mortals wilt and melt. The Sacrifice Content. The Harnessed Poor. The Unsure Chained. Sixteen sentinels, one face between each pair. Here the Gods look down while mortals vie. Immovable - only their stone corrupts. Here the Gods frown, eighty thousand died. The Sacrifice Content. The Harnessed Poor. The Unsure Chained.
5.
Deadly Nightshade Beauty in the pain, form in lifeless limb. Song in scream, lust in resistance. Fear sharpens mettle, prostrated I rose. Snip you drop, plucked you resolve. Feast I gorge, hate I eat, compassion, I spurn that sickly treat. Render I down, need I must. Slaughter I slurp, sleep you slake thirst.
6.
Who’s Been Digging in the Garden, George? Who’s been digging in the garden, George? Who’s been digging in the garden, George? Who’s been digging in the garden, George? Who’s been digging in the garden, George?
7.
Ogham on The Hill We chose the song over the score, traded meadow for highland moor. Round tongue over square cut word, we did not amass we survived. Boundless nature will not descend and when it does will rise again. Mark our boundaries’ end in braille we will not see the sun prevail. Our arithmancy did not tally, grid too square, our words too coarse a net to catch the world’s full force, we honed wits and thrived. Boundless nature will not descend and when it does will rise again. Mark our boundaries’ end in braille we will not see the sun prevail. We chose the song over the score, we sang the moor till song was done. Round tongue over square cut word, pure we slipped away. Boundless nature will not descend and when it does will rise again. Mark our boundaries’ end in braille we will not see the sun prevail.
8.
Old Magic 05:06
Old Magic Traust me, scamt land, we are the same: Heathen and fylde, bleikr and fok. We are the same. Raise, whirl, unfurl the old magic! Reisa, whirl, unfurl the old magic words. Trade knot, skamt land, we are the same: Heathen, dregg, myrr, drit and rogg. We are the same. Raise, whirl, unfurl the old magic! Reisa, whirl, unfurl the old magic words.
9.
Crimson Clover The love I gave will not wither winter, the love I gave has weld the mercury summer and sundew. The love I gave sprang the purple loosestrife, and the love I gave held autumn charlock for a while. My heart has been ripped out, my heart bistort. My heart cleavers, spurge my dog-rose heart with crimson clover. the love I gave, no bitter vetch to sainforth, the love I gave, a broad leaved willow herb autumn, and the love I gave, no fairy flax tormentil. And the love I gave, a meadowsweet bur. My heart has been ripped out, my heart bistort. My heart cleavers, spurge my dog-rose heart with crimson clover.
10.
End Where We’ve Begun The lines of power withdrawn, the night page white to notch what we are in dot to dot of star. Facing to the sun, end where we’ve begun, the light stone white we ogham score ratchet the returning sun. From gort the rays down to the suckle ailm leaf, from the fern sail root dair the rising shoot. From saile grazed beast to colled for the feast, from the belly to the voice to the sky we implore. The sun divine sprang a single word, the sun divine to light our way. From fearful night to overwrite the mess of stars, their spás their empty page hewn to mesh a face, form driseg fears into fochlac stone and with our entreat supplant the blank of night. The sun divine sprang a single word, the sun divine to light our way.

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Written, performed and live looped in lockdown by Matt Howden, home in Redroom studio, January 2021

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released April 2, 2021

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Sieben Sheffield, UK

Providing the soundtrack to your apocalypse experience.

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