- i'll never leave this place, the place where i was born.

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album analysis > leitmotif > liner notes

Concept | Liner Notes | Lyrics | Discuss

Below are the liner notes or stories from the booklet of 'Leitmotif'. When you read them you can easily see that many of the lyrics from the songs are embedded within the stories, I will leave it to you to read them and find them. These stories are also a basis for some of the clues and hints that are mentioned and discussed on the page dealing with the concept of the album.

Liner Notes

PREFACE: dream one

disturbed and terrified I raced amongst my inner fears. my sleeping quarters drenched. I am visited by a spirit in my sleep. I am told that I have a moral disease and that unless the mind is changed back to the standard moral foundation, death will come to me. she tells me that I will visit five cultures that will bring new insights inside. if I accomplish these five goals then I will evolve into a higher consciousness and my disease will be cured. step one is the diverse city of San Francisco. seek the unlikely and he will inform you of your next step which is the wise Kayasuma. and as I woke to see the light of the morning sun I began to pack for my journey shall not wait.

in the city where i live, the buildings rose towards the sun that was to run out within a few. dense population followed by many ideals. one could lose his balance of structure amongst the structured crowd. San Francisco was the first stop along the way. searching for a new ideal I was. a slight distortion filled the cities floor tones as I walked wondrously along the cracked lonely streets. the wind was high as the fog blanketed my emotion. I was placed here to study the handling of the spirit in the relationship to itself, to improve intelligence and behavior. will I accomplish my guidance? actuality tells me that there is no such thing as destruction as this disease that what I face is only a creation against creation. will it pass? as I walked to seek my purpose I am encountered by a homeless individual. desperate clothing and vodka stained breath. "listen," he said as I swallowed my ignorance. "patience is the key." I asked myself to listen to this unbearable soul. as his fingernails slowly creeped his metal string. he repeated. "patience is the key for a change to ensue." disbelief I assumed. what could one so unorganized know about my travels. as I stepped outward he cried, "wait." "take these words I say, have faith, for it will free this disease in which you hold." for now I know he is this unlikely soul. "you will be guided to the right place. now take these words and be on your you. but live it as you last." for his words I did not ignore, and the ripped articles that shelled his skin I felt no need to explore. "listen carefully," his yellow teeth persisted, "first, along your way you will need to swim underneath the day that never was to meet Kayasuma, soon to warm the arctic cold with the spirit of yuta as well as develop the love that will build your heart and free you up from the sand." even though his words I could not conjure, they painted my mind for the future. we humans are merely unprepared animals, it's all we are. as I slowly departed from my encounter I was left with one last preparation. the homeless bagger stated, "as the end comes near while you kneel before the one, drop down to the ground and wait for the sound of the soul." with the advice now concrete amidst my insides, I made my motion towards the land underneath where I would attempt to evolve myself. as the pacific was to become my home for the next three months I departed the city and entered the ship which would sail me toward the west. with the stern going to be at my past, the bow would be hoping for a new beginning.


my ride along the big blue came with a slight nostalgia. traversing towards the arctic I was. I find it amazing when the sky meets the sea with blackness as the new stars overheard stared silently back at me. the spirit of yuta awaits. the waves which hit starboard sounded like metal against the hard ground. three long months I will travel west hoping for a cure. and as the boat neared the line that stated the day that never was, the ship began to descend underneath the horizon, into the underwater city of Natoma.


to descend beneath breathing air was an instant. the land underneath awaits. twelve thousand leagues under was this sub-culture who endorsed crawling as their transport. as the bubbles floated upward, times I thought of. slowly I float on the ride. distant melodies parallel the bubbles with a slight ease. the port silently awaits below. the underwater city of Natoma was to help along my journey. As I entered the translucent, I felt once again raw to my surroundings. This vast assortment of buildings and tunnels displayed an eye full. I now hang beneath the ground as the portsmen who welcome my entrance seize my belongings and guide me to my cause. The Kayasuma, the insight into fate, awaits my arrival. Am I helpless. I wonder, what is my purpose here? the visit from the beautiful women in my dream told me to meet with the Kayasuma, the town's shaman, for he is to have some insight into a cure as well as guide me to my next encounter. suspended now I hang as I feel slightly enthrocentric. there is such a difference down here beneath the ground that our world has laid for us to walk on. As the three foot in diameter tunnels guided me toward my cause, I crawled with an open mind. The vast Pacific was a yield to my journey. And then from yonder, blue did rise. As the tunnels lead me into the heart of the city, a new thought now hangs amidst my interpretations. Beneath the stoic sapphire skies was a new land. A hidden culture with such inspiration that one individual from the land above could hardly conjure. Midst the frothy peaks I passed tiny pairs of silent eyes. Followed then by a fleshy hast, to mark my travel was there at last, the shaman's temple. It was a welcoming invite and as my soles were silently placed aside, I entered the shrine. Tea was offered and drank as I sat to cradle the floor. The sign that crookedly hung overhead read 'believe me now for you shall not crawl away.' silently we sat and in my mind he looked around. through the telepathy he told his tune, his first told the story of his culture. how they lived down here below the ground for many a years. how they lived content through the point of enlightenment. they believed in no such gods, only in the connection of the neighbor. And as they grow no greed, they have no money system. As one grows older he is forced to surface for his quest to contact other ideals for he shall not live a full life enclosed within a bubble. The wonderer shall travel the land to seek equality as if your insides eat the food of faith. And as these ideals flowered upon my mind a slight echo from a well tuned chant filled the tunnels. His insights inspired me to travel the world before I pass. to progress where I grow. breathe me deep and clean. a vast liquid will give birth to a new. The Kayasuma then told me to "seek the spirit of yuta amongst the arctic cold." As I took this information seriously I valued his wise emotion. for what I'd learned, he taught to me. that only from the violent sea can I search for freedom free. I then thanked the words and crawled to the door to the land above. it is now time to surface. time to realize what I have. Puzzle is a truths journey as I break the bubble. to the plane that awaits my arrival back to my city, I will travel to seek the lonely spirit.

MOVEMENT II: crosswind minuet

from the ships embarkment I was guided to a nearly plane in order to travel into the arctic. the beat of the plane was appealing. as I looked back upon the left behind community I thought of the future. can the growth that lies within be reversed. a slight shake of the plane shifted from left to right. I am on my way to seek the unlikely as a soothin piano accompanies my headphones. out the window the city lights the sky as contrail represents the traveled past.


Northern Asia was the place the plane ended.. searching for the ultimate answers to life I entered through the gangway to enter the world with the goal to accomplish. with heavy clothes I slowly traversed. with the attempt to somehow fulfill the unlikely's words. A slight uneasy buzz filled the chilling winds as I prepared to bundle. for what I searched for I did not know but only the spirit of yuta. through the arctic cold I hoofed. lonely and frantic. will my accomplishments appeal my desires? many barriers I have encountered and for a man who is willing to accept restrictions and barriers, and is not afraid of them, is free. a man who does nothing but fight restrictions and barriers will usually be trapped. step by step I search. feeling a slight neurosis I now hear a voice. a silent but soothing voice that accompanies my postulate. could this be Thetan. the cold wind that now blows direct irritates my view. As the voice approaches near I am in realization that it is the voice of a woman. the same women from my dream. open and willing I call out. "hello." the moment it took to answer seemed forever but eventually her beautiful face I did encounter. "can you direct me towards the spirit of yuta?" I mouthed in with hope resting on my tongue. her reply came strong. "ignorant soul, for it is not something you ask nor find for that matter. to want is against the enlightenment, one must accomplish it through the gradual discipline of the mind. follow me to my nest where I will help your inequality." her beautiful voice echoed around the buzzing wind. the traverse took long hours but eventually we reached the white covered temple. as I entered it was cold and uncomfortable. unaware I sat as the adrenaline now seemed to control my flow. she silently stated, "ever undertaking, however large or great it may become, has somewhere it's beginning. your beginning was my visit to your subconscious. for I know you have come some distance but here is where patience is the key, ignorance is correctable. as language is a powerful weapon, you must now tune your words with mine as we will chant to call the spirits." many beads hung amongst her place of worship. bamboo divides the frosted glass that provides a glimpse of foreign cultures. as the watches swing clockwise, our chants create precious evolution. the winds that now feather together brought the spirits that now float between and above. the dark room now shines bright, lighted by this higher source of the spirit of yuta. translucently overhead, as yuta hovers he begins to warm the arctic cold. I am amazed at this spirit who's energy is concentrated towards the floor beneath, slowly, the spirit of yuta begins to melt the ice beneath revealing a set of stairs. the spirit now motions towards the stairs telling me to descend. as I slowly descend to the dark world below, I feel someone is comfortable waiting for my entity. each step brings me closer to the radio transmissions that my ears now assume and to the world below I step.



a mysterious man welcomed my arrival at the bottom of the stairs that led underneath. he said he was to guide me to the lost city of koele. in his hand he held a radio transmitter in which he said helped his magnetical guidance. as we walked down the dark corridors he lit a night stick for sight as the radio transmissions guided us towards our interest. he explained that only opposition will bring the city of koele. east, west, and south we traveled as my feet began to whine. unlike the arctic it was warm down here amongst the dark corridors. my guide hummed a slight tune which seemed to help the travel as it echoed a delay from wall to wall. water trickled from above as deer hooves carpeted the floor. after many turns and numerous movements a light cloud could be seen ahead. another set of stairs guided us upward and to the desert floor.


Each grain slowly slips trough. The heat of the desert is at my side and on my chest. My venture relies on the transmission of the culture. My guide, speechless as the past brown foothills roll towards the horizon. The sacred city of Koele awaits my entity. The guide, sharing little speech, points to the west as if to say it is the end for him. It may or may not be understood as I say "how much further?" No answer as I assumed, and as I turn to question again I realize he has vanished with the sun. The night images I will embrace so I can sleep. In the morning I will rise with the east and enter the culture which holds my answers. Sleep will come to please at the end of my task as I lay down for the evening. As the night birds drop candles for the missing seekers, I hear the hum of my thoughts. The morning brings my senses. I look around to correct my path. Lost again. The city of Koele, so it was written, is brought by opposition. Out on this long vast carpet of sand, clues are hard to witness. The eyes I close to listen with my senses. Open. This cant be true. The sand reflects my ignorance. To the north a penguin awaits and invites. He gestures that I follow his lead. So one hundred seventeen strides I follow. I am guided to a stairwell that leads below. A sign hangs near which reads, "The city of Koele. Only questioning souls wil pass the gates." Still not concrete of what will fork my engery, the penguin is gone as I once again descend into the darkness that bridges into Koele. The stairs bring me the room of determination. The ceiling is low as theories run through my head. This here, why that? Undecided corpses lay across the floor. Do they comfort me, like a blanket hides the frightened ones? They are a time line in a tect of unanswered souls. Suddenly a loud noise marks my ponder as the ceiling begins to drop. Shall I try to progress or is patience once again the key. Silently I sit as the ceiling still lowers. Squeezing me tighter. Lower, lower. I will lay down but wont run. Waiting, the ceiling still comes down. Waiting now for it to start rising, that time will come. Finally the room regains shape as two carefully leafed penguins enter the room. With the motion to follow I now enter the underground city with a goal for pure ethics. Wonder was my key. There was a smell of blame as I enjoyed the rugged undercaves of the city. Leaving behind a world of seperate thought, I am now to mentally conquer the insights of Koele and build my heart. The penguins tribe that carefully watched me stared towards the peerless. The two penguins guided me towards what I did not know. Billions of candles lit the pathways as the deceased were pilled into the damned rivers that once flowed with fresh fruit from the gods. Since I had asked to be brought to the Koele king, I assumed that that was where I was headed. So much to think that I cant recorrect my thoughts. Through this obstructed venture I feel as if I am not flowing yet. The king who was placed across the unvailed river caught my view as I crossed. I was caught in his stare. As I was not allowed to enter the king chambers I had to talk though a wire that hung near by. As I picked it up I assumed that I was to ask him if he knew of my journey. So I asked as the electricity traveled though my wires. It seemd to have reached his core as across the emptiness he still stared. He then explained that the deceased were the cause of man. His eyes from afar seemed to flow with interrogation. I apologized as I explained that I was trying to nurture the wide open. He then commented that the outsider has only brought misfortune. We have blamed your culture for our disease. We have learned that our love for our kind holds the only true meaning to our culture. It builds our heart with appreciation. Since I can see that your heart has been built, unlike the others, I will give you my advice. Take your technological structures and arise with this thought. He then spoke of the great Yatahaze localted amongst the clouds at the top of mount Everest. He is the wisest of the wise and it is there where you shall end you treacherous journey. Seek him and you shall be fulfilled. As I placed the wire back I thought that he was only feeling sorry for himself. But so what he said was right. I then thanked the culture as they chanted my exit. I then climbed the stairs back to the grain floor. Back steps I encountered. Once learned, forever followed. Traveling back as each grain slowly slips through, is cross the desert heat to board the train to the sacred mountains.


Sitting next to a man who slept through the ride I was placed next to a window. Recording my travles inside my journal I reminisced. The sound of the tracks along the journey was that of a tremolo and as we entered the tunnel, the noises seemed to echo soothing voices from the walls. The tunnels were long but the exit seemed enlightened as the view of the landscape eased my mind. The sleeping soul next to me seemd to scream along with his dreams as I ignored him for the view. The travel was short as we neared the station, a chorus from a well tuned string instrument filled in the background. The train seemed to come to fast stop as the noises deceased.


Overture. Exiting the train I left behind a world I balanced. Seeking the promise of the past. I brought my oldest fears as well as my ignorance. Slowly climbing was the gondola that I boarded as my transport to the mountain top. The gondola was a bridge towards the ancient but new. The destination among the clouds was a dome of glass. Towering overhead, this mountain top city covered many miles. Internal was this commuinity. High among the clouds, this city sat quiet. As the gondola was climbing, it was building me up. Building me to the last leg of my adventure. Lifting me up. I thought to myself, what is the peculiar sort of truth in which travel is the pursuit. The study of the moral judgments of the many pulls my strings hoping to make it larger. Hoping to divinely approved I sat waiting for the entrance. Climbing. Slowly the songs of the inked men greeted my travel box. With decorations they stood as if they expected my arrival. I was anxious to know that the wisest, most truthful to the stars awaits. The two moons which stood above reflected my matterless abstractions. The other night I placed a target on my disease as I now hope to cure. The clock will pause against my brain. Questions were asked. Guidance was followed. The two inked then guided me to the gates of the sensible realm. That of concrete tangible things. This divine city of Barea germinates my shedding skin. I have asked to see the great wise and on my way I walk. I wonder what he could look like. How old could one be to be so wise? It is speechless to say that he defines holyness. The population of Bearea, all carefully decorated with ink, each tell an individual story. Each stands for age, disease, royalty, sin, or achievements. A story book of flesh. The glass dome, which expands as big as a continent, is completely coverd by a singel tree. This single tree holds five seasons which can be visited within a journey. The gate upon which I entered stood within the season of Fall as leaves dripped silently to the ground. Winter can be seen with a squint of an eye. The inked man lead me to the wise who he said was close by. He is everywhere actually. In the trees he comes. With the wind he feathers together. Slowly climbing we reach the trunk of the tree. The two inked ones leave my presence as I think of what to question the great one. Questioning and saying I take for granted. My opinions are failing. They are constatly changing. Only my ignorance remaining. What could I conjure in order to gain respect from the wise? Waiting I am for this great mind. He is the knower of the land. Is his knowledge accessible? Can a cure be achieved for my frail body? I have travled many miles in hope of a resolution. I have tried to perfect my foundation. Hopefully it has helped. Soon time will catch distance and I will dust. It is here beneath this tree where the wise Yatahze resides. As I think to myself I learn that the great one is not a man at all, but merely a tree. This giant tree that I now sit beneath. For his leaves drop the answers in which I think. Lookin out upon everything my mind searches for a gift. Hope is my anchor in this giant sea of violence. Teach my mind your knowledge. The leaves sink to the ground revealing the answers that I search. "Hoping and waiting. You are living but dying. I have come to the conclusion. It might as well be an illusion. While trying to find out. Your meaning, is it planned out?" My mind fingers the fretboard as to find myself on the same page as before. In reality I have learned nothing in comparison to what is to be known. Higher I think I have become. But all of this time I have been drifting back down to the ground. As depression and discomfort began to settle a single fuit was offered for a sum. Dropped to the ground along with a single leaf that inked 'the fruit holds the answer-it will transfer the conclusion-your nature is you own self discipline.' My eyes burn with the bite as I now kneel before the one. Sound mind. Sound body. Drop down I do. Will I not live through this sacred fruit. Unaware I fall into a deep sleep.


Slowly I drifted into a deep rest. A full ninety hours I will enthrall. The fruit rests beside which was offered by the wise. A gain in which I hope to achieve rests slowly with the eaten ripeness. As I travel back and forth beside my past travels, the visited float close by. I see my subconscious slowly speaking to me with a high pitched shriek. I quickly revist the desert sand, the underwater land, the arctic, the city, reviewing the material that I have taken. My morals now hang high among the tense levitation. I have been educated through epistemology. Through complete contract. As my reflection now stands before me I am forced to battle. It is an everlasting fight but eventually I conquer. Each insight and each different culture has pieced the puzzle of life as I have come to the truth. For I am told that when I awake, my life will be regained to a normal and comfortable state. A set of new skin I will now wear. A disease tackled and conquered.

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