I fully understand the shotgun in my pillow
Is no uncarved block at hand
Life is sweet but not it seems for Buddha
There's a shotgun in his hand
Shotgun, shotgun, shotgun, shotgun
The nature of uncarved blocks
Is how to describe what's hard to describe
Yeah
The simplest things, the quietest
The child-like simplicity
Everything I need to hear
Positive the way I view
The simple of thought inherit the earth (shotgun blows)
Like Winnie the Pooh, confucianist rules (shotgun blows)
Oblivious in what I do (oh)
Deliberate the way I live (shotgun blows)
The nature of uncarved blocks
Is how to describe what's hard to describe
Vinegar taster says
The more force I apply, more trouble I make
(Is that I cannot describe why it is
Such a perfect illustration of the opposite and
Complex arrogance we display to protect one another)
Think too much, think too much
Think too much, think too much
Copyright(c) 2002-2008 Song Lyrics Collection .com
