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)



(Shotgun blows, shotgun blows, oh, shotgun blows)

(Shotgun blows, shotgun blows, oh, 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