Up on a mossy hill where sunflowers sing
I just sit and watch them do their thing
Long enough to make the constellations freeze
Down with the dirt and slugs where fungus gleams
Nimbus clouds roll over from the sea
Carrying with them all the cosmic dust and debris
It’s such an existential waste of time
Searching for the moon in low tide
It’s such an existential waste of time
Being a monk living in the shrine
In this ossuary people try to talk to me but
I don’t the words to say
Smiling teeth show cavities
Catacombs in calamity and
I’m afraid that I could dream it all away
It’s such an existential waste of time
Searching for the moon in low tide
It’s such an existential waste of time
Being a monk living in the shrine