The Creator walked out naked
on a desert plain
He said I've gotta make something
And get out of this rain
So
He mounded the clay,
And
He pounded the sand
Then
the anthill sprouted up!
In the form of a man
Om! He said Ommmmmm!
Then
The wind came along
And asked "what is his song?"
God you'd better get it right
Or that soul will be wrong
He said Oh! Don't you know
If the honor don't flow
Then the spirit don't grow
rooted trees from below
He said.
He said.