According to Buddha
In the mountain hermitage which is my body,
In temple of my breast
At the summit of the triangle of my heart,
The horse which is my mind flies like the wind
He gallops on the plains of great bliss.
he’s a Spanish fly who bucks like a stallion,
in the suits that you got him, he looks more Italian.
when you worry about your tan, when the weathers getting clammy.
summer in the city, and winters in Miami.
and you get so high on the high-life pills.
cruising and boozin’ and rockin’ on the horse-sized pills.