Lion of Light

Kin of Nietzsche

11:19 Download
Jesus Aaron
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Lyrics

Well I went out a ramblin the other day, didn't know where I was going just got on the first plane And when I finally found my seat, sat down next to an old friend of Friedrich Nietzsche And you know I had to ask him how he been; he just sat there and grinned most of the way, but just as we were gettin off that plane, bout 3 am in the Ukraine, I remember him sayin "This illusion breeds what confusion needs and these amusing scenes make communion seem impossible." And I thought that was pretty cute then, but it wasn't funny at all when, that very same day in some town in the Ukraine, I ran into the great great grandson of one Fyodor Dostoevsky Well we talked about the whether and all, and how his hometown could use a few more shopping malls, but I wanted to know what he really thought, so I asked him Well he started going on and on about sin and redemption, just like back home and one o them good ole boy Christians; so for the most part I ignored him, but one thing I do remember him sayin' though was how "In yearning to be reckless we turn into jealous, sick, obsessive, unlearned sex or pleasure slaves to our senses." And that hit me about as hard as Aunt Betsy's fryin' pan, so I asked him could he repeat it, and he said no, so I said well then you know I gotta go See it was just a layover there in the Ukraine; I was looking for some other flavors of Asia Major; I was India bound I had another plane to catch; a plane on which I was hoping, might find the time for a little reposin', but wouldn't you know it the ghost of the second cousin of Mahatma Gandhi wouldn't leave me alone; singin' over and over "Happiness the mystery sits just beyond our ever knashing teeth, still lashing words of misery at lacking the ability yeah, happiness the mystery sits just beyond our ever knashing teeth, still lashing words of misery at lacking the ability to make out of nothing something. Well you know I never was quite as dumb as a bag of hammers; I figured something had to be trying to tell me that nothin' really matters. That is to say, everything that seems to be real may be a dream instead. And at that minute I couldn't help but remember what Bob Dylan said. At different parts of time that is, but something like "If you let me be your dream then you can be in my dream cause he not busy being born is busy dying." And you know I had to sit and marinate on that for a while, but then I realized that my journey wasn't over I had miles and miles to go; so I headed north from that Delhi airport with some folks of the monastic sort; well slightly east of north, that is, to a place where they say Jesus once lived; up toward Tibetan way, where I met the Dalai Lama's chamber maid, who talked as sweet as springtime rain and assured me that the way to misery is to complicate; that's why all us westerners run around like chicken with the head cut off "While the seemingly simple man, beaming dimples, can calmly sit there feeling blissful and leaving this world be still inside while the rest are left in waiting... for the punchline." And you know for tellin' me that I had to thank her kindly, and then with a melacholy wave, I left Tibet behind me And I headed back toward Delhi on a Persian mare, whose all white coat was beyond any kind of compare; stopped down a hidden road the maid had whispered where I found Bobby Fischer's secret lair; well we talked awhile about chess and such, and them glory days when he took out Kasparov **; we played a game and yes he won I said, "Hey man you the king," he said, "So what?" "Be not naive of what position seems for even a pawn may take a queen and being King's not as good as it may seem; so many want to kill you" Well when I got back to the airport there were Hare Krishnas singin', there were army men in uniform searchin' everyone that was a travellin', and you know me I wandered off. Went looking for some post cards but instead found some for greeting; yes it seems hallmark made it to India and somehow seemed just as cheesy; Don't know why, but for whatever reason their sentimental words always seem cliche and lame. But then I think I finally figured out what hallmarks really been tryin' to say; a whole commentary on the human condition, and it go like this, "It's ironic now the symphonic sounds of our own smiles seem miles and miles, yet in truth these are simple tonics found the moment we stop looking." So I stopped looking, and eventually made my way to the plane and we took off for Germany en route to the USA. And when we landed in Munich well you know all the guards had changed; these guards had uzis I can assume weren't filled with blanks. Yeah, pretty scary. But you know I met some nice people when I wasn't half asleep. In particular a man and his dog with wrinkles six feet deep. He was a smily man looked over at me said, The dog with him well it wasn't really his, and described a man named Albert who became a famous physicist. And I looked at that man, nodded, kinda laughin' at his joke, but when he left the dog with me for a second well I swear to you he spoke, saying, clear as day, "When Einstein died I was just a pup, growin into my paws, but I swear he said something like this during his last hours, that is come to think of it I can't really swear, but it sounded like, sounded like" "No infinity is everything, but everything seems to be breathing, leaning, screaming, unabashedly toward meaning, if only in its seperate space." And I looked at that dog and said that does it, that's it, it's all too much for me. Been nice talkin' to you wise dog, but I gotta leave. And as I flew back, into the setting sun, back to the land where they say once the west was won, I couldn't help but remember everyone I met along my way. And all the fantastic and marvelous and amazing things they had to say. And it all came back to me in a chorus-like fashion, one after the other, and it sounded something like this: This illusion breeds what confusion needs and these amusing scenes make communion seem impossible. As in yearning to be reckless we turn into jealous, sick, obsessive, unlearned sex or pleasure slaves to our senses. While happiness the mystery sits just beyond our ever knashing teeth, still lashing words of misery at lacking the ability to make out of nothing something. To make out of nothing something. And you can be in my dream if I can be in your dream, cause he not busy being born is busy dying. While the seemingly simple man beeming dimples can calmly sit there feeling blissful and leaving this world be still inside while the rest are left in waiting... for the punchline. So be not naive of what position seems for even a pawn may catch a queen, and being king's not as good as it may seem so many want to kill you. I say so many want to kill you. And it's ironic now the symphonic sounds of our own smiles seem miles and miles, yet in truth these are simple tonics found the moment we stop looking. As no infinity is everything, but everything seems to be breathing, leaning, screaming, unabashedly toward meaning, if only in its seperate space. And to this list I added one as I stared into that big, fat, orange sun. It went around and came back to me, it sounded somethin' like this. "Sometimes we all wonder why and how all the ups are followed by downs, and the truth looks false when upside down as pain is pleasures shadow."
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