Eight hours of work, eight hours must I sleep,
I can only weep, I realize my life is passing by,
Oh O O O Om . . .
My life gets in the way of living.
Creative people try and lonely people sigh,
I can only weep, I realize my life is passing by,
Oh O O O Om . . .
My life gets in the way of living.
Travels I would make, cause my heart to break,
For misery and ecstasy are one.
Tibetan book of the dead, red rivers I have bled
And temple walls, they speak of—
My life gets in the way of living.
Years spent in school, we learn but never do
And if you have a woman, or a man,
Your life is spent, by a factor of ten,
Oh O O O Om . . .
My life gets in the way of living.
Jul 19, 2012
Jul 19, 2012 at 6:43 PM UTC
Eight hours of work, eight hours must I sleep,
I can only weep, I realize my life is passing by,
Oh O O O Om . . .
My life gets in the way of living.
Creative people try and lonely people sigh,
I can only weep, I realize my life is passing by,
Oh O O O Om . . .
My life gets in the way of living.
Travels I would make, cause my heart to break,
For misery and ecstasy are one.
Tibetan book of the dead, red rivers I have bled
And temple walls, they speak of—
My life gets in the way of living.
Years spent in school, we learn but never do
And if you have a woman, or a man,
Your life is spent, by a factor of ten,
Oh O O O Om . . .
My life gets in the way of living.
