"Four Preludes" Op. 5

by The Wooden Wolf

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released March 5, 2017

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The Wooden Wolf France

The Wooden Wolf may howl or hum, joke or moan, but he'll do it in the moonlight, when the night is blue

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Track Name: Busy Being Born
I used to laugh at my shadow
I guess I thought it was my past
Now I let it speak to me
The echo of a muffled heart in the chest

But I guess all this hollow me
Is just a place to hide
All these folded instincts
Just a broken pride

I thought I was busy dying
But I'm busy being born

Everything is for tomorrow
But tomorrow never comes

There's never enough room
Never enough room just to be anywhere

So we give the silence a little stir
We lay down five minutes
Aim for the stars and devour centuries

With all these mirrors waiting for faces in them
With all these mirrors waiting for faces in them

They glow, outwardly, just like me
But that glow is not a light
Just a phony little fever
And it's spread all over me, it's obscene
It's keeping me numb, deceptively clean

Oh but we get old, real fast
Have you ever noticed
The way you eventually get to like this shit
This comfort in being sad
Despite yourself

I thought I was being dying
But I'm busy being born

I thought I was busy dying
But I'm busy being born

I thought I was busy dying
But I'm busy being born
Track Name: It takes an angel to make a ghost
It takes an angel to make a ghost

All I do everyday is wake up
Wake up and lick the frost off my dreams
I think it’s maybe the best thing I do
Work my tongue on a forgotten dream

The wings of the night are beautiful things
But they’re beautiful things only when they flap
They’re only dusty feathers in the morning
And everyday’s an unborn phoenix in a trap

At night I try to sleep but I don’t sleep
Cause that’s when the ghosts are comin’ out
You know there’s a ghost behind every little thing
Looming

Brave men are broken nightly in their beds
In a desert of useless moonlight
There’s a howling emptiness gnawing through their mattress and their head
Off the ceiling drips the blood of a forgotten god

A bed full of blood is where they sleep
Full of sweat, full of cum, full of tears
Cause we were born there, we fuck there and that’s where we’ll die too
So why even get out from under the sheets

At night I try to sleep but I don’t sleep
Cause that’s when the ghosts are comin’ out
You know there’s a ghost behind every little thing
Looming, inhaling when you exhale
Opening his eyes when you close yours
But it takes an angel to make a ghost, you know
It takes an angel to make a ghost
Track Name: Little green eyes
Come on little green eyes, stay with me
Come on little green eyes, lay with me
And play with me
But stay with me

Screaming eyes, so sharp with light
Troubled eyes but exquisitely alive
With quivering fire
O little green eyes

Splendid eyes with green but despair too
There’s languor and spleen but where are you?
They tremble from rage to resignation
O little green eyes, little green eyes, little green eyes

Now come on little green eyes, stay with me
Come on little green eyes, lay with me
Come on little green eyes, oh play with me
Track Name: Four bullets for Berta Cáceres
Berta Cáceres was a Honduran indigenous
Environmental rights campaigner, an activist

Fighting for her land, for a life with dignity
But like hundreds of others before she was murdered

Four bullets to thank her for her commitment and bravery
Giving her life for the well-being of humanity

That’s what happens when you defend your way of life
Gunmen seem to get the better of human rights

And what’s doing the government to face impunity
But privatize rivers and uproot communities

What would you do if you were the persecuted
What would you like better, to be dispossessed or shot ?

Go, go Río Blanco
Flow, flow río, flow, just flow