Hey, hey I’m calling you now… Goat Boy.
Skirling Pan pipes and blinding visions under a harsh Moroccan sun. Demon of the Summer of Love in flashing white silk and Berber jewellery.
Electric guitar, dulcimer, melotron, the thunder of your passion could shake or caress, blast and whisper in the psychedelic passion play of your incarnation.
That sacrifice you saw… blood spilling on the golden hair sand of Jajouka. TRANCE-SUBSTANTUATION.
Dulcimers, marimbas, crossed legs and sideburns sitar…
We shared the earthly plane for only a spring and that summer when the 60’s went Rolls Royce 666 Prince of Darkness.
Your spirit informs the mind of the Mage and you are an ancestor.
Your primal energy infuses that fuzzy air… incense and weed smoke in the dream world cottage. Now it’s that time again. Sonic energy and all ecstasy again.Floating in the swimming pool.
Die every day you did and you did.
Wasn’t that a glorious time my friend?
The endless English orgy of drug busts and headlines and broken butterflies on wheels and lightning storms in the black broken air.
So I summon your spirit in fur and fuck. I wear the beads and dust my broom for thee!
I invoke Loki and Lucifer! Pranksters and illuminators. Thee I invoke! Adonai! Pied Piper, the Great God Pan. I invoke thee! Thee I invoke! The deviant spirit, the playful initiator… manifest HERE, NOW!