You see the body is the Buddhi tree The mind a clear mirror of me Strive to clean so as to see And not let the dust gather to be Oh Charioteer What is here? You see the sick, old, dying and wisdom For the Fourth I`d give all my kingdom There`s got to be a way. Will I die, will I cry Will I suffer, what words shall I pick to say? Will I love, will I hate In between there`s got to be a way Will I grow old, shall I break the mold And follow the Buddha? Am I wrong? The coin toss always ends up Sunyata I`m sick of all your religion That`s not infinite wisdom Maybe here in material needs I`ll find the answer to my dreams Oh Charioteer What is here? Maybe here in this mountain stream I`ll find the answers to my dreams Yeah. There`s got to be a way Will I die, will I cry Will I suffer, what words shall I pick to say? Will I love, will I hate In between there`s got to be a way Will I grow old, shall I break the mold And follow the Buddha? Am I wrong? The coin toss always ends up Sunyata
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