Spit Them Out

I take my jacket of it's getting warmer outside
I try to distract my thoughts and I try to set them aside
Somewhere else a poet scene is mumbling song sings
And above his head, prayer flags fluttering in the wind

He sings, "Oh, if only time could be here and close about me
When no one seems to hear my prayers, come here and close about me"

He was stranded by a storm for six months in the great cave
Of conquering demon where he had gone to meditate
To meditate in solitude until the storm had died down
But time caught up with him and soon made him one with the ground

Oh, I wish time could be here and close about me
When no one seems to know me right, come here and close about me

I took a pine branch from the woodpile and I held it hard in my hand
Just to hold on to something when the rest of me won't stand
With a little gain in altitude, I'll soon be on the upper land
Hold the fluttering prayer flags, I hold them hard in my hand

When nothing seems to do me right, I'm getting all worn out
I want to throw my thoughts away, I try to spit them out
I try to spit them out
Try to spit them out
I try to spit them out