Lyrics
Now, actually, it is absolutely absurd to say we came into this world
We didn't
We came out of it
What do you think you are?
Suposing this world is a tree
Are you leaves on its branches
Or are you a bunch of birds that seattle down on a dead old tree from someone else?
Surelly, everything that we know about living organisms from the standpoint of the sciences
Shows us that we grow out of this world
That we, each one of us, are what you might call symptoms of the state of the universe as a whole
But, you see, that is not part about common sense
So, instead, it's just became fashionable
And it is nothing more than a fashion
To believe that the univer is dumb, stupid
That intelligence, values, love and fine feelings reside only within the bag of the human epidermis
And that outside that the thing is simply a kind of chaotic, stupid interaction of blind forces
Blind, ruthless, uncomprehending lust
That's the foundation of the human unconscious
And similarity, to thinkers like of the 19th century like Ernst Haeckel, even Darwin T. H. Huxley, and so on
There was this notion that after root of being is an energy
And this energy is blind
This energy is just energy
And it's utterly and totally stupid
And our intelligence is an unfortunate accident
By some weird freak of evolution we came to be these feeling rational beings
More or less rational
And this is ain't ghastly mistake, because here we are in a universe that has nothing in common with us
Doesn't share our feelings, has no really interest in us
We're just a sort of cosmic fluke
And therefore, the only hope for mankind is to beat this irrational universe into submission
If you would think that the idea of the universe, that the ultimate reality doesn't have any intelligence at all
Don't make any sense
Because you cannot get any intelligent organism, such as a human being, out of an unitelligent universe
The saying in the New Testament that "figs do not grow on thistles, nor grapes on thorns
Applies equally to the world
You do not find an intelligent organism living in an unintelligent environment
But, you see? We curiously twist it, we say
Well, first of all, in the beginning, there was nothing but gas and rock
And then intelligence happened to arise in it
You know, like a sort of fungus or slime on the top of the whole thing
Ah, but we're thinking in ways, you see, that disconnects the intelligence from the rocks
Where there are rocks, watch out!
Because the rock are going, eventually, to come alive
That universal self that it's you...
Has a capacity to focus itself at ever so many different here-and-now's
So when you use the word "I"
This is, William James said, really a word of position like this, or here
Just as a sun, or star, has many rays
So the whole cosmos expresses itself in you, in you, in you, in you, in you...
In all the different variations
It plays games
It plays the John Doe game, the Marry Smith game
Plays the beetle game, the butterfly game, the bird game, the pegeon game, fish game, star game
Just like uh, these are games that differ from each other just like backgammon wist bridge
Ah... poker, pinochle, or like waltz, mazurka, minuet, and so on
It dances with infinite variety
But every single dance that it does
That is to say, you
Is what the whole thing is going
But you see, we forget it
We don't know, we are brought up in a special way
So that we are unaware of the conection
Unaware that each of us is the... is the works playing it this way for a while
So we've been taught to dread death as if that were to end of the show
It won't happen anymore
And therefore, to be afraid of all the things that might bring about death
Pain, sickness, suffering
And if you don't know, you see
If you're not really vividly aware of the fact that you are basically the works
You have no real joy in life
It's just a bundle of anxiety mixed up with guilt
A momentary flash of consciousness between two eternal blacknesses
In constant contentiousness with everything around you
Not only with other people, but with the Earth, with the waters
But that's because it doesn't feel that the external world is his own body
It is
The external work is your own body, extended
When he realizes that he'll get his mind back