4 Elements

Written by: Samuel Taylor Coleridge, Michael Turner & Christopher Portugal

[Thes One, with echo effect:]
Aight, man… Part two! Wordsworth, Coleridge… and the beeeees! Yeah, this is where it gets funky, y'all!

And through the drifts the snowy cliffs
Did send a dismal sheen:
Nae shapes of men, nae beasts we ken –
The ice was all between.

The ice was here, the ice was there,
The ice was all around:
It cracked and growled, and roared and howled,
Like noises of a swound!

And thro' the drifts the snowy clifts
Did send a dismal sheen;
Ne shapes of men ne beasts we ken--
The Ice was all between.

The Ice was here, the Ice was there,
The Ice was all around:
It crack'd and growl'd, and roar'd and howl'd--
Like noises of a swound.

At length did cross an Albatross,
Thorough the Fog it came;
And an it were a Christian Soul,
We hail'd it in God's name.

The Marineres gave it biscuit-worms,
And round and round it flew:
The Ice did split with a thunder-fit;
The Helmsman steer'd us thro'. KA-BOOM!

And good south wind up behind;
The Albatross did follow,
And every day, for food or play,
Came to the Marinere's hello!

Hello, birds! C'mere! Yeaaaah!

In mist or cloud, on mast or shroud,
It perched for vespers nine;
Whiles all the night, through fog-smoke white,
Glimmered the white moonshine."

'God save thee, ancyent Marinere!
From the fields that plague thee thus! –
Why look'st thou so?' -"With my crossbow
I shot the Albatross."

I shot it, ahhhh… yeah, I shot it…

"The sun came up upon the right:
Out of the sea came he,
And rod, as a weft upon the left
Went down into the sea.

Good south wind still blew behind,
But no sweet bird did follow,
Ne any day for food or play
Came to the mariners' hello!

Hello, bird! But it was gone… oh yeah!
It was dead… I think you… I think you feel me now…

And I had done a hellish thing,
And it would work 'em woe:
For all averred, I'd killed the bird
That made the breeze to blow.

Fried chicken…

Ne dim ne red, like God's own head,
The glorious sun uprist:
Then all averred, I had killed the bird
That brought the fog and mist.

'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
That bring the fog and mist.
'Twas right, said they, such birds to slay,
They bring that fog and mist.

The breezes blew, the white foam flew,
The furrow followed free;
We were the first that ever burst
Into that silent sea.

Down dropped the breeze, the sails dropped down,
'Twas sad as sad could be;
And we did speak only to break
The silence of the sea!

It was quiet…

All in a hot and copper sky,
The bloody sun, at noon,
Right above the mast did stand,
No bigger than the moon.

Things are getting worse…
Part-eth the third… Wordsworth and Colridge…

Day after day, day after day,
We stuck, ne breath ne motion;
As idle as a painted ship
Upon a painted ocean.

Water, water, every where,
And all the boards did shrink;
Water, water, every where,
Ne any drop to drink.

The very deep did rot: O Christ!
That ever should be!
Yea, slimy things did crawl with legs
Upon the slimy sea.

About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;

That's them dancing…

The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, blue, and white.

And some in dreams assured were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow.

And every tongue, thorough utter drouth,
Was withered at the root;
We could not speak, no more than if
We had been choked with soot.

Uh… uh huh… uh huh…

Ah! wel-a-day! what evil looks
Had I from old and young!
Instead of the cross, the Albatross
About my neck was hung."

Tough break…

I saw something in the sky
No bigger than my fist
At first it seemed a little speck,
And then it seemed a mist;
It moved and moved, and took at last
A certain shape, I wist.

A speck, a mist, a shape, I wist!
And still it neared and neared:
And an' it dodged a water-sprite,
It plunged and tacked and veered.

With throat unslaked, with lips black,
Nae could we laugh nae wail;
Then while the draft, all dumb they stood!
I bit my arm, and sucked the blood,
And cried, A sail! a sail!

With throats unslaked, with black lips baked,
Agape they heard the call:
Gramercy! They for joy did grin,
And all at once their breath drew in, HUH!
As they were drinking all.

She doffed my tack from side to side
Hither to work us weal;
Without the wind, without a tide,
She steadies with upright keel!

That's the sound of her steady
Bring it 'round!

The western wave was all a-flame,
The day was well nigh done!
Almost upon the western wave
Rested the broad bright sun;
When that strange shape drove suddenly
Betwixt us and the sun.

And straight the sun was flecked with bars,
(Heaven's Mother send us grace!)
And if through a dungeon-grate he peered
With broad and burning face. Ssss!

Alas! (thought I, and my heart beat loud)
How fast she nears and nears!
Are those her sails that glance in the sun,
Like restless gossameres?

Are those her naked ribs which 'flect the sun
That behind them peer?
And are those two all- all the crew?
That women and her freshless fear?


His bones were black with many a crack
All black and bare, I ween;
Jet-black and bare, save where the rust
Of mouldy damps and charnel crust
They're patch'd with purple and green.


Her lips were red, her looks were free,
Her locks were yellow as gold:
Her skin was as white as leprosy,
And she is far liker Death than he :
The flesh makes the still air cold.

What a bitch… ouch…

The naked hulk alongside came,
And the twain were playing dice;
'The game is done! I've won! I've won!'
Quoth she, and whistled thrice.

Brrrr… brrr… brrr… I don't know how to whistle…

A gust of wind starts up behind
And whistled thro' his bones:
Thro' the holes of his eyes and the hole of his mouth
Half-whistles and half-groans.

Mmmm… ahhh… sh… on the sea…

With never a whisper in the Sea
Off darts the Spectre-ship;
While clombe above the Eastern bar
The horned Moon, with one bright Star
Almost atween the tips.

One after one by the horned moon
(Listen, O Strangerl to me).
Each turned his face with a ghastly pang,
And cursed me with his eye.

Four times fifty living men,
With never a sigh or groan
With heavy thump, a lifeless lump,
They dropped down one by one.


The souls did from their bodies fly, -
They fled to bliss or woe!
And every soul it passed me by,
Like the whizz of my crossbow!"

Damn, uh… Ouch…


This track appears on the following releases:

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The Next Step Question in the Form of an Answer American Men, Vol. 1
"O.S.T." ...Or Stay Tuned Stepfather
The Om Years Fun DMC Carried Away
Highlighter 12 Step Program American Men, Vol. 2
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