In the high pines
Above the blues guitar
The chords are rung
To call us to God
But not the one
Who played them
Such pain was justified
In such ecstasy
Of different spheres
And yet the same ...
Truth is only a language
To shape who we are
But down there only crickets
Speak freely
They don't hold back
Out of shame
That what they say will
Leave them stranded again
Pain left in the karmic distance
To be remembered in ecstasy
