Tragically Hip Lyrics
Poets
Spring starts when a heartbeat’s poundin’[Samadhi's hibernation awakens with the advent of spring]
When the birds can be heard [The arrival of the birds means coming out of the caves]
Above the reckonin’ carts [Before pilgrims make the trip to the sacred shrines]
Doing some final accounting [Wondering how much they can donate]
Lava flowin’ in Super Farmer’s direction [Awakened from their dead volcanoes, going to the lower lands]
He’s been gettin’ reprieve from the heat [Samadhi is starting to ware off, blood moving back to muscles and joints]
In the frozen-food section, yeah [haven't eaten for months at a time]
Don’t tell me what the poets are doing [Don't tell me what the siddhas are doing]
Don’t tell me that they’re talkin’ tough [Don't tell me they ridicule dogma, rituals and practices]
Don’t tell me that they’re anti-social [Don't tell me they turned their sense inward]
Somehow not anti-social enough, alright [Someone stay on top of current events]
And porn speaks to it’s splintered legions [Don't rely on sex, even though it's called Tantra]
To the pink amid the withered corn [No eating pig or corn]
Stalks in them winter regions, yeah [Civilization only able to capture them when they are in motionless samadhi]
While aiming at the archetypal father [Their sights on Siva]
[| From: http://www.elyrics.net |]
He said with such broad and tentative swipes [Siva ask in a non suggestive tone]
Why do you even bother, yeah [Why do you bother....haha]
Don’t tell me what the poets are doing [Don't tell me what the siddhas are doing]
Those Himalayas of the mind [Those Himalayans that can penetrate the mind]
Don’t tell me what the poets been doing [Don't tell me what the siddha have been doing]
In the long grasses over time [Those immortals living off the land]
Don’t tell me what the poets are doing [Don't tell me what the siddhas are doing]
On the street and the epitome of vague [The golden bodies, or impressively disguised]
Don’t tell me how the universe is altered [Don't tell me how they change the happenings of society]
When you find out how he gets paid, alright [When you learn how they get paid]
If there’s nothing more that you need now [If there are no more questions about siddhas]
Lawn cut by bare-breasted women [Living in regions which seem third world]
Beach bleached towels within reach for the women [Monks, lamas, yogis and fakirs]
Gotta make it that’ll make it by swimmin’ [Everyone's destiny to become one, only have to enter Samadhi]
Lyrics from eLyrics.net
