Terence - An Eye for an Ear

Tracks

Side 1

		Track Name	Length
	1	An Eye for an Ear	03:39
	2	Rap	03:15
	3	Second City Song	02:52
	4	Power	03:45
	5	Exiles	02:22

Side 2

		Track Name	Length
	1	Fool Amid the Traffic	04:23
	2	Priscilla	02:21
	3	Lighting Frederick's Fire	04:31
	4	The Emperor	04:27
	5	Does it Feel Better Now?	02:41

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Information/Write-up

AN EYE FOR AN EAR
The complexity of living with ourselves has condemned us to establish an absolute system of self-extinction. We improve our ordnance under the pretext of securing peace. The longest journey is the journey inward.

The touch of fear
The heroine reached out
It would not answer
Too many words
To sign on a letter

By all you once held dear
You had no home
What of the city
On the street?

She still weeps unfooled
By all the hidden motives
Too clearly painted on
The ledger leaves
To blot her name
Where hate seeks a girl
Who once held hands
With an outcast angel

No one asks nothing
But there is a secret
A little dreamer
Still dreaming

A mime escaped the tide
And died alone
Treason kissed her
Greased black head
To the forehead
Of another fool
For an eye

RAP
In whatever voice or measure, the outcry is to follow the will to exist, to observe, to desire, to fall, to hate, to aspire.

How many more times can a man ask why?
A buck ain’t worth a rap
It’s too bad to keep on
A buck ain’t worth a spot
On the dice
But the revolution
Says all is nice
Demonstration
Demonstration
Demonstration

Confrontations
Miss quotations
Sister’s rappin’

SECOND CITY SONG
Memory rejects nothing; it has a bad reputation, the want to forget simple that we are not completely honest.

Dig that mother
Takin’ a powder
Dig that cat
Drinkin’ it cold
North it’s to do
What’s left to fade

From the neon scream
To a one-man stone band
Make happy
Make happy
Make your own shadow
Gettin’ second city blues

POWER
Acknowledged or condemned, power is neither valid nor invalid. In one sense, it is inevitable. All men reach, and when will someone stay?

Justice is an expert judge
Science has superior court
Are there seeds in your machine?
Are there roots in your death?
Is your ladder to your hands?
Or better place for your baby?

If you take the log
Your hands know
What you know you love love!

EXILES
Within each of us is the pioneer of our own existence, whether we admit to it or not, yet we feed from the past, a legacy of the past.

Who will it be
That exiles us
From the little land or home?
Who’d be there to greet
With the public hand?

Let our gentle last breath
And a shade of white rain
When the child let our gentle heart be free
Free to live to love
Free to leave their heart
To exile

There’s nothing to be afraid of
There’s nothing to fear
That peace all day

FOOL AMID THE TRAFFIC
In our establishment, we alienate the enlightened, to characterize the madness. Any human sin justifies guilt.

PRISCILLA
In several instances, what is observed is wrongly taken. A man’s hands which they use for good, in his mind his hands are tools. The hands are instruments to sins, white intentions, raw intentions.

She had lilies
Priscilla
Her hair was shining
Down her back
From her shoulders

She held the lamp
And saw the length
Of shadows

Her hands with lilies
Trembled on her sleeve

LIGHTING FREDERICK’S FIRE
Since it has passed on that the emperor is clothed, we suppose there is something to be said.

She thought she should look
To see what the man held
To the fire

He lit
He lit
Frederick’s fire

He lit Fred
He lit Fred
Frederick’s fire

There should be no law
To say no
He lit Fred
He lit Fred
Frederick’s fire

And the air is warm
Afraid for the
Afraid for the crowd
Afraid for the
Afraid for the

The fool brought the crowd to its knees
Brought the crowd to its knees

No no no no
He lit
He lit
He lit
Lighting Frederick’s fire

THE EMPEROR
With the machinery thought in mind, an emperor to his subjects may always present himself, as the case will allow. He will smile in the new face in his new way and in the ever-prevailing system.

Street lights are flashing
People lined the street
Sidewalks turned to canvas
Lined by the police
The little man spoke
The little man said—speak—speak

And the little man spoke
And he cried “speak—speak”

Should have had protection
Should have had a law
Should have had Priscilla
Pray for man’s son

The little man cried
Pray for man’s son

DOES IT FEEL BETTER NOW?
In the end, the questions are resolved only to the extent of our own experience. We are the masters of our own feelings. What of that feeling that it is to us certain truth?

Does it feel better now?
No, it doesn’t feel
Better now
I dream
I dream

Giting, giting, giting

Close your eyes
Tell me what you feel baby
Tell me now
Oh yeah baby

It feels bad
It feels bad
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Everything’s coming down

Does it feel better now?
No, it does not feel
Better now

I dream
I dream
That I seem
That I seem that I
Dream?

Giting, giting, giting

Music and lyrics by Terry Black and Patricia Phillips
Produced by Jerry Styner
Arranged and conducted by Artie Butler
Recorded in Hollywood, California, USA

A Jerry Styner Production

Cover design by Ken Kim
Liner notes by Paul Drew

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