Tis’ my abstract notions, which cause the commotion’s,
polluting your impure thoughts with my truthful potions,
concocted from truthful explosions, lassoed by mind energy protrusions,
upon the ignorant lay the confusions, as it shatters their illusions.
As hearts are striped of clutter, and laid bare,
karmic debts in the black, stomping ground fair,
everyone’s on track, there’s enough to go round and you’ll get your share,
have faith in the universe, your place in the circle awaits, pull up a chair.