Ashes Out of Balance

from by Shea Bilé

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Inspired by the cinematic work, "Koyaanisqatsi", and by the ancient Hopi prophecy which reveals a possible demise of modern American civilization. As a society and a global civilization as a whole, we are living life out of balance; essentially, we are an organism at war with itself. A Day of Purification will come, hopefully, it will be an upheaval of the mind and spirit, and not of the physical world first. For now, we are both agents and victims of a culture headed towards its demise.


:╪: Lyrics :╪:

In the name of inked holy ghosts and never-waking natives
blood-covered cave drawings depict Americans dreaming
In the name of Luna raped at the barrel of a gun
mother have mercy as we bow to the final solstice Sun.

The Day of Purification has finally come
and you're going to be judged for everything that you've done
Not by an angry god, but by a forgotten dawn
for the child diamonds you dug up and covered in blood

So what glitters is stolen
that's why God's always golden
the only holy is human
until a cauldron of ashes descends from Heaven

and we scraped toward the sky
bled the sunset
drank the maiden dry
but won't let it all end

and I'll make Atlas shrug
return dust to dust
ashes out of balance
so it is done

All the children who were gathered
fathered under a dusk
blank-faced and starry-eyed
the Black Sun descendants
they wear the face of our ancestors
yet none of us remember
until we take their hand
and finally find a death in their dance

All the lost cherubs are flying high
transcending city limits
history repeats itself
but Revelations finally ended
Yet I still stand to watch the Western sun set
where the silent apocalypse is permanent

But in spite of death we dance
we sing of holy golden lands
the poison rivers water deflowers
what's become the son of Man
We've grown into an Eden
sans the Tree of Wisdom
ashes out of balance
squandering the apple of Adam

And it takes an end-time
to force the stars to rise
only at the precipice do we tear the veil from our eyes
but up until the sixth trumpet
it's the deaf against the blind
up until the final death
do we transcend the flat line

And in the name of our children
stillborn but still hated
in the name of every Middle Passage and Inquisition
I call upon the Goddess
who's both barren and voiceless
to give birth to a fire
that will burn down Eden

And out from under these ashes
there will come a new kingdom
despite the past, we'll rise in defiant freedom
And every Babel tower will tear the sky open
Until every constellation falls and bows in our presence


from Tzimtzum, released April 9, 2016



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Shea Bilé Los Angeles, California

Shea Bilé is often heard somewhere on the Moon speaking in tongues with fallen angelic-eccentric flair. Within these songs resonate a sonic ceremonial fusion of not-so-subtle tragic instrumentation and lyricism born of aggro-elegant punk-poetic and unrepentant occulture.

Socal-based poet, Shea Bilé, is a relentless storyteller of the 5th dimension, and the Never-afters that follow
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