I will go where there are singing bowls, high up in the mountains
step by step I will take my leather shoes up the rocks
at the peak there will be nothing but fog and in the fog I will hear
singing bowls, reverberating through time and space to my ears
I'm really hoping it's the guru
about to lay something heavy on me
and not just tinnitus
from watching rock gods on stage blast their solos like grenades into my ear drums
as I sit chained to the work gang of their superego.