{"id":9405,"date":"2005-12-29T14:42:38","date_gmt":"2005-12-29T19:42:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blogs.discovermagazine.com\/cosmicvariance\/2005\/12\/29\/rearrange-your-liver-to-the-solid-mental-grace\/"},"modified":"2005-12-29T14:42:38","modified_gmt":"2005-12-29T19:42:38","slug":"rearrange-your-liver-to-the-solid-mental-grace","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/preposterousuniverse.com\/blog\/2005\/12\/29\/rearrange-your-liver-to-the-solid-mental-grace\/","title":{"rendered":"Rearrange your liver to the solid mental grace"},"content":{"rendered":"

Close to the EdgeSome holiday frivolity for you. I’m a big fan of Yes<\/a>‘s progressive-rock masterpiece Close to the Edge<\/em><\/a>, but I’ll admit that I always presumed the lyrics were mostly nonsense. Not true! It turns out that every line<\/em> is imbued with subtle and hermeneutically challenging messages, worthy of the closest of readings. Happily, such a reading has been provided by the Church of Yahweh<\/a> (don’t ask). Here are the lyrics by Jon Anderson, Steve Howe, and Chris Squire; have a crack at interpreting them yourselves before peeking at the answers<\/a>.<\/p>\n

I. The Solid Time Of Change<\/strong><\/p>\n

A seasoned witch could call you from the depths of your disgrace,
\nAnd rearrange your liver to the solid mental grace,
\nAnd achieve it all with music that came quickly from afar,
\nThen taste the fruit of man recorded losing all against the hour.
\nAnd assessing points to nowhere, leading ev’ry single one.
\nA dewdrop can exalt us like the music of the sun,
\nAnd take away the plain in which we move,
\nAnd choose the course you’re running.
\nDown at the edge, round by the corner, not right away, not right away.<\/p>\n

Crossed the line around the changes of the summer,
\nReaching to call the color of the sky.
\nPassed around a moment clothed in mornings faster than we see.
\nGetting over all the time I had to worry,
\nLeaving all the changes far from far behind.
\nWe relieve the tension only to find out the master’s name.<\/p>\n

Down at the end, round by the corner.
\nClose to the edge, just by a river.
\nSeasons will pass you by.
\nI get up, I get down.
\nNow that it’s all over and done,
\nNow that you find, now that you’re whole.<\/p>\n

II. Total Mass Retain<\/strong><\/p>\n

My eyes convinced, eclipsed with the younger moon attained with love.
\nIt changed as almost strained amidst clear manna from above.
\nI crucified my hate and held the word within my hand.
\nThere’s you, the time, the logic, or the reasons we don’t understand.<\/p>\n

Sad courage claimed the victims standing still for all to see,
\nAs armoured movers took approach to overlook the sea.
\nThere since the cord, the license, or the reasons we understood will be.<\/p>\n

Down at the edge, close by a river, close to the edge, round by the corner.<\/p>\n

Sudden call shouldn’t take away the startled memory.
\nAll in all, the journey takes you all the way.
\nAs apart from any reality that you’ve ever seen and known.
\nGuessing problems only to deceive the mention,
\nPassing paths that climb halfway into the void.<\/p>\n

As we cross from side to side, we hear the total mass retain.<\/p>\n

Down at the edge, round by the corner, close to the end, down by a river.
\nSeasons will pass you by.
\nI get up, I get down.<\/p>\n

III. I Get Up, I Get Down<\/strong><\/p>\n

In her white lace
\nYou can clearly see the lady sadly looking.
\nSaying that she’d take the blame
\nFor the crucifixion of her own domain.<\/p>\n

I get up, I get down, I get up, I get down.
\nTwo million people barely satisfy.
\nTwo hundred women watch one woman cry, too late.
\nThe eyes of honesty can achieve.
\nHow many millions do we deceive each day?<\/p>\n

Through the duty she would coil their said
\namusement of her story asking only interest
\ncould be laid upon the children of her domain<\/p>\n

I get up, I get down, I get up, I get down.<\/p>\n

In charge of who is there in charge of me.
\nDo I look on blindly and say I see the way?
\nThe truth is written all along the page.
\nHow old will I be before I come of age for you?
\nI get up, I get down.<\/p>\n

IV. Seasons Of Man<\/strong><\/p>\n

The time between the notes relates the color to the scenes.
\nA constant vogue of triumphs dislocate man, so it seems.
\nAnd space between the focus shape ascend knowledge of love.
\nAs song and chance develop time, lost social temp’rance rules above.<\/p>\n

Then according to the man who showed his outstretched arm to space,
\nHe turned around and pointed, revealing all the human race.
\nI shook my head and smiled a whisper, knowing all about the place.
\nOn the hill we viewed the silence of the valley,
\nCalled to witness cycles only of the past.
\nAnd we reach all this with movements in between the said remark.<\/p>\n

Close to the edge, down by the river.
\nDown at the end, round by the corner.
\nSeasons will pass you by,
\nNow that it’s all over and done,
\nCalled to the seed, right to the sun.
\nNow that you find, now that you’re whole.
\nSeasons will pass you by,
\nI get up, I get down.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Some holiday frivolity for you. I’m a big fan of Yes‘s progressive-rock masterpiece Close to the Edge, but I’ll admit that I always presumed the lyrics were mostly nonsense. Not true! It turns out that every line is imbued with subtle and hermeneutically challenging messages, worthy of the closest of readings. Happily, such a reading […]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":4,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[12,22,37],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-9405","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-entertainment","category-music","category-words"],"jetpack_featured_media_url":"","_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/preposterousuniverse.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9405","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/preposterousuniverse.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/preposterousuniverse.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/preposterousuniverse.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/4"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/preposterousuniverse.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=9405"}],"version-history":[{"count":0,"href":"https:\/\/preposterousuniverse.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/posts\/9405\/revisions"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/preposterousuniverse.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=9405"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/preposterousuniverse.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/categories?post=9405"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/preposterousuniverse.com\/blog\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/tags?post=9405"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}