buddahs

there's a little bit of something going on

underneath the way below the earth

under all the traffic flowing run

down inside the quiet were there's birth

i feel it in these ever aging bones

returning to the place where i began

where all the stuff and worry finally roams

to join with all the follies made by man

it's not as if i have a morbid longing

i just feel an undertow, a plan

that heals the wars the sentances the wronging

the judgement we all hoist upon the damned

just a little heavy thought to ponder

as into another day i wander