« Leftoverturned » is a rehash of ideas already introduced in « 1000 Radios » or discarded from the piece’s writing sessions. The instrumental depicts the vanquishing of the countless questions presented in « Samsara. »
The first part is entitled « No More Questions. »
Given its structure and contents, the second part could have been named « Informaëlstrom II, » but because of the undeniable influence of Modest Mussorgsky’s « Night on Bald Mountain, » the full title finally evolved into « Atmospheric Disturbance Over Balkanian Mountain. »
Here's the associated poetry :
I had set out to understand Which thoughts were best to be untwirled Which lines were fit to make the strand Which words were apt to free the world
As I advanced onto the quest No issue left me unconcerned No question was left unaddressed No single stone was left unturned
Just driven on by a feeling Proverbial mental splinter I never knew needed healing Explored ahead ever faster
The hands of time were overruled Future and past blended and burned Nobody could have had me fooled The learned became the unlearned
Until one day I encountered Round a corner of my psyche Childhood events that had triggered An invisible injury
And there and then I understood My quest had been for disclosure Of the wound that I had withstood That robbed me of my composure
At first I blamed the offenders Until I came to recognize Playing our parts we were actors We had not written my demise
Although that much had become clear Most of the mystery remained Of how I could rid me of fear And of all that which had me pained
So on the path I walked along Sincerely seeking the answer Frequently deaf to my own song To hear despair and desire
Arcane knowledge for you I yearned As I explored ever further The parts of me that had been burned The heart that had learned to wither
And how often unwittingly I strove against the unfolding Of a process so fittingly That mostly needed allowing
Onward I was driven by will Guided by natural justice All that time directing the bill So it could school its apprentice
I scythe the sheaves and dig the roots In my garden of souvenirs The time has come to reap the fruits Of endeavors over the years
On the threshold of a new life The world I sought sincere I pray One of love and of freedom rife Almost in reach won't go away
The play complete the actors bow The school is out the lessons learned It has happened don't ask me how Countless questions leftoverturned