Acolytes of the Machine

Dr. Mary Crowell

Acolytes of the Machine

Music & Lyrics: © 2006 by Mary Crowell
Used by permission - All Rights Reserved

Gauging the pluck point. There's no going back.
'Hearing the chiff as I start my attack.
Fingers don't shake as you dance on the keys.
Those working bellows are counting on me.

Pipes loom above me in glorious ranks.
(The) wind chest is central -- the reeds guard my flanks.
Stops are before me -- which ones should I choose?
Should I choose wrongly the City will lose!

CHORUS
World's crumble 'round me.
I always knew
Music's the only
Thing that is true, that's true. It's true!

The Wolf comes to threaten our Barony here
Seeking to rule us with hatred and fear.
(By) burning our city he plans to repay
Slights cast upon him in song and in play.

The Storm looms above us. It's promising doom --
Death to the small folk and those who presume
(To) sing of the Hunter in ways that demean.
Our only hope is this Brilliant Machine!

CHORUS

The Hunter has risen -- the Wolf's at the door.
Storms are upon us too loud to ignore.
They came and got me to play the Machine.
I'll play the Organ. The Blonde Choir will sing!

[Blonde Choir Descant]

Feet march the Pedal-board, fingers the Swell.
Music is heaven, but out there it's Hell!
Flue pipes are singing in tones bright and clean.
Praise for the Acolytes of the Machine!

Pipes glow too lucent -- the song's in my soul.
The warmth in my finger's so hard to control.
(The) Cadence is Perfect -- the moment is nigh.
(A) great beam of light lances through the dark sky.

CHORUS

Circuitry's burning -- the manual's on fire.
Singers are silent -- no notes from the Choir.
No longer flesh, I'm a spirit serene
Sacrificed gladly to this Fine Machine!
Praise for the Acolytes of the Machine!
Praise for the Acolytes of the Machine!
Praise for the Acolytes of the Machine!