Mother’s Milk

by Pan Galactic

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    These discs come in a jacket sleeve, and they feature the anatomically-correct, constellation-style 'Pan Toasting Celestial Gaia' image printed on the disc.

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Again 05:15
The fool, he pleads again He’s taken to his knees again
 The Queen, she shows again
 His cup, she overflows again His roses thrive again
 His garden’s come alive again It’s filled with birds again
 His pen is filled with words again His little bauble’s dubbed ‘Sir Much’ His stone gets rubbed back into touch His old clothes fit again His wit somehow gets lit again His marotte’s mind reflects his own It’s seated deeply in her throne She seems impressed again But she says, “it’s all in jest” again Ah, ah, ah He winds the world again Her canvas is unfurled again
 He spies a crack again
 He flies her Union Jack again The tale is told again
 Her chest is full of gold again Her breeze, it blows again There’s feeling in his prose again She lashes down the central mast The favor gets returned at last Who would have guessed again? His compass points due west again He steers her from both fore and aft But neither seems to float her craft He roams the docks again With warm rum on the rocks again Ah, ah, ah The shepherd buys the myth Though he be mortal mere again This goddess he lies with She whispers in his ear again His wooly brain gets tickled By the hand of Fate again Her cloistered walls get knocked up Now his crook’s gone straight again Spinning the coarse yarn With his brothers in the hood again He ties one on and says A bit more than he should again To prove he doesn’t play the liar He palms the pearl again Her jovial sire’s so filled with ire He’d like to hurl again And again, and again And again, and again, and again Olympian skies are rent As niter bolts fly through again His herding tool gets bent His prospects become few again Clothing her shell, she fares him well And leaves him naught to smell but ewe again His blood, it heats again His heart, it finally beats again He squeals like Pan again He feels like half a man again
 He throws his shoes again
 He’s bare-hooved with his muse again He jigs and reels again His head’s over her heels again He slept until a quarter passed A grain in Saturn’s hourglass The play can start again ‘Cause Eros hit his heart again And how could such a florid faun Not turn this maiden’s iron on? And he may yet again But she’s playing hard to get again Ah, ah, ah ©2016 Purple Satyr Publishing / CD Baby Publishing
You are the bright, opalescent daughter
 Queen of the continents of the moon 
I am the beast bent to bring your water Swift and soon Let me press you with purpling pleasure Comets crash from within your eyes
 Of all the palaces of tender treasures Yours is mine Let me take you in the golden fields Of ready wheat and rye
 Together we will plunge into the sun and die Let me hold you in the twilight
 ‘Neath the silver spread of stars 
The dome of heaven crowns Around this love of ours Voices trumpeting, flame and fire
 Beating light into white hot glass 
In all the languages of ancient landscape We are free at last! ©2016 Scott Henry Fray / CD Baby Publishing
Between the fiery stars of Nut Empty space is vast Inspiration’s absolute But the shine don’t seem to last To the strains of a one hole flute The jester’s nights are passed ‘Til even Ra’s moved to bare his fruit Dock the plasma barge and discharge Bast Still this divine puss, she needs A little post to scratch And that on which her fever feeds The fool, he strikes a match A newly kindled passion breeds The muse’s torch gets passed Ask Venus, even she accedes He’s coupled in some cosmic dance with Bast Her consort he’s appointed His scepter gets anointed They trip the night so cryptic They waltz on the ecliptic A moth drawn to the fire She flies like Icarus, higher Her shiny coat starts peeling The kitten underneath revealing She beckons him to baste her His brush can almost taste her His chops, he can’t stop licking Her painted teats are sticking Maat’s pinioned moment’s waxing His moral code’s relaxing The eye of Thoth is waning But there just ain’t one damned soul complaining Oh, no, no Her precious little tail, it sways From side to side Osiris and his dead she’d raise How’s he to keep his shenti tied? His nuggets melt under her gaze Into the crucible he’s cast May be to Isis that he prays But he dedicates his obelisk to Bast This yarn, he likes to toss it That line, he’s yet to cross it One taste of her oasis His stuff comes out of stasis Her age, he’s contemplating Keeps he this kitty waiting Keeps she an ember burning His privileged member yearning That burdened beast might tire His passport might expire Best he to take the Bee Line And make this flaming feline His age, she did debate it But Geb helped her carbon date it And yet she’s still caterwauling And it’s under her sweet spell the joker’s falling ©2016 Purple Satyr Publishing / CD Baby Publishing
The Reaping Crone rides the sky Sweeping, reaping
 The old and the dead are to her hearth fires led By the twinkling of her eye Drawing down the harvest moon Silver tongue, with an ancient rune Across the veil, returns the tune La, la La, la, la, la, ah, lo La, ah Far as the eye, the eye can see The rolling hills, the wild and free And a thing out of time is born in me I am old, yes, it's true
 The holy oak, the rowan tree The sap; the wine—the soul; a seed
 As I am quickened and I have need 
I love as she loves through me The Reaping Crone rides the sky Sweeping, reaping
 The old and the dead are to her hearth fires led By the twinkling of her eye Swaying soft, her breath of trees 
Her crown: the stars—her womb; the seas And a thing out of time is born in me 
I am old, yes, it's true
 As ash is Adam, and elm is Eve
 And Mother Korn, the laden sheave As I am quickened and I have need 
I love as she loves through me ©2016 Scott Henry Fray / CD Baby Publishing
After sharing his lemon, my first mate laid odds
 Against me growing to favor the fruit of the goddess It’s true, the Fates had me a long age adrift But I found your lush isle, and I bared my Greek gift For six blissful years we did breakfast in bed I think I might actually have been overfed
 For the time came when my spermies started to snooze
 And not long after Hermes delivered the news And now I miss you Calypso I miss the warmth of your kiss, oh I swear the memory still burns in my heart
 Our tongues did the tango
 Your yin did my yango But destiny yanked them apart Still I can taste you Calypso
 And those nectarine lips, oh You laid a spread, I just followed my hunch You were saucier than Circe
 And if Zeus yet had mercy
 He’d have me back at your table by lunch I fancied a life with some warmth I’d have won But the climate's grown cold beneath this Ithacan son
 Yet one suitor denies me my impassioned reprise Strung and pluck, I but play second lyre to Christ The same drama unfolding nigh every night
 A vessel full of seamen left high and dry
 To a pantheon of gods I’ve most humbly appealed
 But it seems that my fate's been hermetically sealed But I want to thank you Calypso You really raised my midship so Your winds were favorable right from the start But all the while they were blowing 
I had no way of knowing It’d be the last time I’d pour out my art Aw, come and take me Calypso 
To be held dear and gripped so 
I’m growing senseless from pounding my fist 
This wine-dark sea that’s between us Just leaves poor Polyphemus Without a reason at all to exist “I’ll fulfill all your wildest desires,” you purred And, unlike those damned sirens, you made good on your word
 Every day you made certain my myth got enlarged And the old, Trojan warrior got honorably discharged I’ll call your isle ‘home’ Calypso
 Let Homer say I was whipped so He knows but half the odyssey I’ve endured 
My logic’s simple Calypso
 You're a nymph, facto ipso With you my deck’s daily swabbing’s assured Well you can have me now Calypso Come have your way with your hips, oh Living without you, well, I might as well be dead My ever bedroom-eyed weaver
 Oh, why did I ever leave ya? I must have been out of my head I must have been out of my head I must have been out of my head ©2016 Purple Satyr Publishing / CD Baby Publishing
I was in the green wood trick-or-treating I came upon some Wiccan chicks meeting They gave me candy It tasted dandy But I found the bliss to be too fleeting They said, “well, Sheela you can savor If you feel you’re man enough to brave her In yonder hollow She’s poised to swallow You merely need to sign this waiver” I was oh, so excited I was dancing a reel and a jig-ee As I sped down the trail On my way to nail Sheela na Gig-ee Now the wee ones find me most appealing I’ve had young Pygmy women squealing Had midgets moaning Some gnome girl groaning A Lilliputian priestess kneeling And though it’s size the guys are flaunting My little apple’s never left Eve wanting As for her daughters I’ve snaked their waters Some say their garden I’m still haunting As a rule, chicks could make A right satisfying meal of my fig-ee (Make a meal of his figgy) Well, the insatiable exception Was the Sheila called Sheela na Gig-ee I made my way up to her altar I prayed my fella wouldn’t falter I asked for blessing Began caressing She anointed me with oyster dressing And then the walls closed in around me Her mammoth lips, they up and downed me She stripped me naked Said, “hey, let’s make it You’ll never find a place more sacred” I thought I’d seen most every wonder I never thought to look for one down under And goodness gracious Her place was spacious Her expectations most fallacious I was in about as deep as one can get That's when she asked me, “is it in yet?” I couldn’t jive her We didn’t jibe Her Volvo was just too big for my driver When my raised mast sailed past their islands The Sirens observed a moment of silence My dinghy one fifth The stuff of Greek myth Their lips were sealed like virgin hymens But when Odysseus made the same trip And those same birds eyed his massive flagship They sang some shanties They shed their panties They tempted him with their steamed clam dip Sure, and he was the first To get Circe to squeal like a piggy (Yeah, she squealed like a piggy) But even his girth proved worthless When he tried to pork Sheela na Gig-ee After sex with the Goddess You might feel like a ciggie But you’d best watch your ash If you’re still inside Sheela na Gig-ee ©2016 Purple Satyr Publishing / CD Baby Publishing
The lettuce heads cried, “don't chop us in half" And they screamed for their vegetable lives
 The cook just smiled, and he let out a laugh And his eyes shone like knives The cream separated, and the milk was skimmed
 And the fork ran away with the spoon
 The curtains were drawn, and the lights were dimmed And music filled the room
 A chorus line of new spring chicks All tender to the taste
 One by one jumped into the mouth 
Of a hungry King Henry VIII King Henry Let me sit here by your side
 And tell me All good things you would confide I don't mean to seem indelicate Don't think that I'm ungrateful But I'd rather be an ally Than be stuck on your plate, oh, whoa no! Food chew be bop Food chew be bop Food chew be bop, food chew Food chew be bop Food chew be bop Food chew be bop, food chew Food chew be bop Food chew be bop Food chew be bop, food chew (Ooh, wah, wah, wah) Food chew be bop Food chew be bop Food chew be bop, food chew (Ooh, wah, wah, wah) The meatmen brang a little loin of lamb And cut a keg of oaken wood
 But we all dined on tofutti and spam
 Just as the civilized should The king and all his cousins made up a baker’s dozen
 So tell it to the farmer in the dell
 To never mind the stuffin' and the feudin’ and the fussin’ And the Frog Prince in the well
 The fat queen rolled out a peal of a snort
 And laughed as the cider got hard
 "Off with her head!" the king was quick to retort
 And it rolled out across the yard King Henry Let me sit here by your side
 And tell me All good things you would confide I don't mean to seem indelicate Don't think that I'm ungrateful But I'd rather be an ally Than be stuck on your plate, oh, whoa no! OH NO! Food chew be bop Food chew be bop Food chew be bop, food chew Food chew be bop Food chew be bop Food chew be bop, food chew Food chew be bop Food chew be bop Food chew be bop, food chew (Ooh, wah, wah, wah) Food chew be bop Food chew be bop Food chew be bop, food chew (Ooh, wah, wah, wah) ©2016 Scott Henry Fray / CD Baby Publishing
The little rooster’s soul, it ailed Trothed as he was, his ‘doodle’ failed His morning mantra didn’t flow The couped-up cock just couldn’t crow A grounded bird with buried head Most free-range chicks mistook for dead His midlife funk affected all ‘Cause the Sun Goddess didn’t get her wake-up call ‘Twas in this hour dark and dire The Gods, they grasped the cock’s desire Empathy had they for his sitch But no clue how to scratch his itch They understood the why and when “His quill needs dipping now and then” They’d just have to hook up the rooster right With some goddess who’d be willing to shed more than light “Kanayama’s mettle isn’t all that warm She won’t exhibit her lodestones in their raw form Her iron will, it will not waver” “Tatsuta truly has one fine veneer But she’ll only let her golden gown fall once a year A brief affair, too cool to savor” “Benzai-ten’s last two hands are locked in prayer She’s oh, so occupied, t’is but her soul she’ll bare Exposing her puritan flesh for none but her savior” “Fuji, she is sometimes known to flash But it'd be rare to see her air more than her hot, white ash Who’ll do the little rooster a little favor?” “How about luscious Uzume? She can get our little feathered friend to sing She’ll be such a breath of fresh air It’ll really get his little weathervane to swing She’ll do a little dance Then she might do a little bit of song But five hundred yen says she won’t keep Those little silk panties on for very long" Cock-a-doodle Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo “She’ll take the job despite the size She’ll get that downcast cock to rise She’ll treat him to her very best Very soon we’ll all be feasting on white thigh and breast” Now ‘Zume sang the silkworm ode She urged the rooster to unload Stroked his pecker once or twice Thawed his calloused claws of ice His paltry little soul, he searched For what seemed years, the bird, he perched Below, a red hot chakra burned As his spitted giblets slowly turned He came out of his pious trance She squirmed inside her tantric pants Pulled and peeled her sushi fruit The fowl, he up and followed suit They got down on both twos and fours They buffed and shined her bamboo floors Despite the mythic thorns, he chose To pluck that sweet, pink Tokyo rose Doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo, doo Her cockle, did, his noodle, do When dawn cracked, he felt good as new His raucous crowing woke the dead And the Sun Goddess, finally, she got out of bed ©2016 Purple Satyr Publishing / CD Baby Publishing
Ode to Pan 04:23
Pan, Pan, of hairy hock Of loping gait and split shoe falls Clatter and clack from rook to rock Girdled by birds in a flurry of calls Twists in your cum-curly nest of flock Musky with all, from brim to balls And girding the ironwood root of your cock Pan, Pan, of fey-like wiles Brown into black, your stag eyes shine Twisting limb and leer beguiles Mounted, my will is not quite mine Given your inches, taken your miles Dance your advance, come fast from behind Assure and succor with coyote smiles Pan, Pan, of rage and rut Laying us bare in unbounded urge Howling and driving us from the gut With crescent scythe, ecstatic to surge To sever from soul, to take in the cut Laying all but the strong to be purged And leaving us free to glory and glut Pan, Pan, your bullroarers wheel Syrinx wailing, open arms flung In abandon to heaven, you rock and reel Dancing deliverance, speaking in tongues To quicken the prick, benediction to feel Let the chill of the night and the song fill our lungs Move us with tunes to exalt and to heal ©2016 Scott Henry Fray / CD Baby Publishing
Night Cap 05:30
One summer evening in the realm of Fae The minstrel passed some nectar Nyx’s way She cordially invited him to stay His lyric flowed like liqueur to her lips She quelled her desert thirst with frequent sips She placed her offer at his fingertips Taken by a kiss of Nyx A trinket in her bag of tricks Briefly their elixirs mix He took her home to meet his mythic beast The little critter had to be released He laid a table for the bitter feast She served an aperitif to wet his fife He whet her appetite and strummed his strife He ate his heart out, she licked the knife Smitten by a smack of Nyx The memory of her lips, he licks That little gypsy’s juju sticks, yeah He croons the tune as he constructs the cage The fool, he frets up on a makeshift stage His ancient vintage finally comes of age And he just can’t contain his bacchanal rage Libations pouring freely from his song Quicksilver rising in his pagan prong And far too little flux for far too long Makes wrong seem right and right seem oh so wrong He raised his empty glass in emphasis His quest could be for nothing less than bliss He took the path to her Kallisti kiss She led his horse up to the gates of Troy She pulled her evening shade and twirled his poi She rocked his little world and girled his boy Graced with but a trace of Nyx Nails fell from his crucifix Goddess bless the pixie chicks No more than a pinch of Nyx Erato gives the boy his fix A nine to realign his six Yet another kiss of Nyx The court astrologer predicts He’s counting Saturn’s tocks and ticks Yeah, yeah, yeah! ©2016 Purple Satyr Publishing / CD Baby Publishing
Mother of all eternal tongues Panic, wracked in rapturing Spatter the sky in a milky way To light a ladder from night to day Mother of all arising suns A Gaia-lactic gathering Spilling silken syllables as stars Like scintillating solar flowers Mother of all galactic man Embracing all in its span Mother of all galactic man Embracing all in its span Mother of all galactic man Embracing all, embracing all, in its span ©2016 Scott Henry Fray / CD Baby Publishing
For days I’ve walked these green mountains All for to find my doe-eyed love
In rain and cloud, for days uncounted
With stones below and storm above All for this river to join her ocean
Refusing nothing, no tide too much
She bids me follow o’er the green mountains With shining eyes, so full of love Once I had gold and I had silver Brocade and linens and furs to wear
I am still rich with copper fire
Curled in this locket, a lock of her hair The ravens call o’er yellow birches Circling high in the thundering sky Each step that falls along my searches Is captured by their watchful eye Ah, ah, ah, ah For days I’ve walked these green mountains All for to find my doe-eyed love
I’m led to follow o’er the green mountains
Her shining eyes, so full of love ©2016 Scott Henry Fray / CD Baby Publishing (Traditional Melody)
Ain’t no joy in Asgard Frey is raining tears Balder kicked Hel’s bucket And confirmed my worst of fears The cocks aren’t crowing And the harp's not strumming But trust me, Ragnarok is coming Sleipnir threw me Wednesday On my way to work He texted me on Thursday He’d run off to join le cirque Don’t need no runestones When Norse gods sink to thumbing It must mean Ragnarok is coming Heimdall’s in his tower One hand on his horn He used to watch over Bifrost Now he surfs the ‘net for porn My top-notch watchman Polishing his plumbing Ten krone says Ragnarok is coming My birds are bickering My brain, they done encumbered Frigg’s flame is flickering Our nuptial days are numbered Those dwarves are whistling And Freya’s feeling reckless Before the day of reckoning comes She’ll have a brand new necklace And it won't be from me At least there’s some good news Amid all this waste Loki has assured me My Valkyrie are being chaste But Thor’s hammer’s pounding The sound is numbing It sounds like Ragnarok is coming Brunhilda’s warming up I hear her humming Ragnarok is coming That’s all folks, Ragnarok is coming ©2016 Purple Satyr Publishing / CD Baby Publishing


‘Mother’s Milk’ is the result of nearly fifteen years of writing, recording, and editing. Inspired by World Myth and Folklore (and sometimes History), the lyrics are clever, erotic, and humorous. The music is a blend of World instruments fused with Symphonic and Rock elements with all variety of stylistic mash-ups. It’s 74 minutes of beautifully layered arrangements, witty double-entendre, and brilliant solo performances.


released May 26, 2020

01. Again (Reiser)

02. Solar Apotheosis (Fray)
3. Masquerade in Bubastis (Reiser)

04. The Reaping Crone (Fray)

05. Odysseus’ Reprise (Reiser)

06. The Eighth Wonder (Reiser)

07. The Feast of King Henry VIII (Fray)
08. The Not So Divine Crisis (Reiser)
09. Ode to Pan (Fray)
10. Night Cap (Reiser)
11. Mother’s Milk (Gaia Lactic) (Fray)

12. Green Mountains (traditional, lyrics Fray)
13. Odin’s Resignation (Reiser)

With the exception of the traditional melody in ‘Green Mountains’, all songs written, arranged, and recorded by Scott Fray and Robert Reiser.

Additional vocal performances by Crystal Bright, Meredith Holladay, Amber Marlowe, Renée Henry, Stuart Stanley, and Jenn Martin. Additional musical contributions by Stephen Smith (guitar), Jeremy Reiser (keys), Terry Britton (flute), Audrey Fannin (flute), Ian Livingston (violin), and Gabriel Godwin (percussion).

Special thanks to Jaime Lagueruela for being so generous with both his time and advice, to Bradford Reaves for coaching us with our vocals, and to Aayko Eyma for helping us translate Bast’s chant into something that approximates ancient Egyptian speech. And a very special thanks to Brad and Tammy Spencer for being such wonderful supporters of artists.

Mixed by Gabriel Godwin and Robert Reiser
Mastered by Alex Wharton at Abbey Road Studios

Cover Art by Robert Reiser
Scott Fray (bodypainting), Heather Meek (model), Bonnie Stanley (photography)

Produced by Robert Reiser

©2016 Scott Fray, Robert Reiser (Pan Galactic)


all rights reserved



Pan Galactic Greensboro, North Carolina

Scott Fray and Robert Reiser met at an advertising agency in the 90s. Both loving the complex sonic landscapes created by 70s Prog Rock bands, they set out to create some worlds of their own. They chose the half-pagan, half-celestial name ‘Pan Galactic’ as it not only gave a nod to their eclectic spiritual beliefs, but also gave them the creative license to fuse as many genres as they desired. ... more

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