Limited edition Golem of Brooklyn t-shirt. Printed on Gilden Heavy Cotton, super comfortable and crisp design. Size S-XXL.
Includes unlimited streaming of The Golem of Brooklyn Original Soundtrack
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lyrics
Lilith and the Golem, a dybbuk or an omen
Floatin in the fog of the evening.
Silence as long as a tree limb.
Is she speakin, or can she read this
Simpleminded chatter scattered in the breezes?
The first time the Golem’s involuntarily speechless.
She breathes like a secret.
Cast out of Eden for her independent streak.
To men of faith, she’s an enemy.
How any woman with her own brain’s treated,
And now she’s bein blamed for that very same reason.
Doesn’t occupy the spaces where Eve is
Seedless fruit of knowledge fallin
Like her fig leaf did
And the Golem is expected to demolish her
Like God does idolators
He throws a punch and she disappears inside of him.
The Golem’s shocked for the first time. She lays a hand
On his cheek then she skirts by.
The Golem’s eyes squirm wide…
Why? Why? Why?
The Angel of Death breathed life
Into a hulk of pyramid brick mud.
After the tenth plague ate through the rich blood.
Emerged from the sea of reeds covered in thick scum.
Moses rubbed the aleph off its head, and it went numb.
(Or)
Judah Maccabee’s father was a zealot
The Golem throttled him to death and made a martyr from a menace.
In wars for God’s love, it guarded the temple entrance.
Or it was sent to lure the king away from his empress.
Or it grew too large and smart to keep alive
Or it found love in a shikse’s beady eyes
Or it was the myth of blood libel’s antibody
Or in cloaks it was the monastery’s Mata Hari
Or it raised children whose parents were slaughtered
Some evil you can’t beat with a sacrifice to an altar
Mysticism is the cheat code of religion and
The Golem was always the largest mole embedded in its system.
Or so it remembered…or so it remembered…
At the crown
Of a cliff face in the caliphate of Cordoba
Where rabbis and imams offered each other warm shoulders
A stable hand who wanted knowledge of more than horses
Built The Golem out of mud and cautiously walked toward it
A tower of books leaned from his steady palm,
As the rest of his body shivered in sweaty awe.
The Golem opened his eyes and nearly chose violence
Then looked over the land, saw no smoke or riots,
Furrowed its earthen brow, and asked, “Why?”
The stable hand thrust the pile of books past its eye
And said, “The true name of God hides somewhere in these texts
I’ll teach you to read, then reread again.”
It took twelve years, the Golem tried, then it failed,
So enraptured with the language he died in its spell
Vines around its body, the stable hand wailed,
A wasted life balancing what can’t be scaled.
The stable hand made stairs from the books,
Wiped the aleph off the golem’s face, sunk in soot.
A clay tree of knowledge stumped forever by faith,
Escaped its thrashing memory a century too late…
Or so he remembered…
supported by 31 fans who also own “Thrash, Memory”
this is a beautifully cerebral, abstract hip-hop masterpiece, woods and elucid are monstrous on this record, i am honored to own a physical copy from these hip-hop legends joshuassites
