Behind the Cliffside Inn,
|
I heard a fiddle and a mandolin,
|
keeping rhythm on an old washboard
|
and stomping on the floor.
|
Saw people of all sorts
|
dancing 'round in twos and fours,
|
caroling about days of old,
|
and what the future holds.
|
In the middle was a big cauldron
|
that they were stirring, stirring,
|
and there were trees around
|
that they kept burning, burning.
|
I asked a toothless man
|
who all these people were,
|
and he said, "The soapmakers,
|
and we are working, working."
|
As they stirred Heaven and Earth, they combined to one,
|
and everything was everyone and each one was all.
|
As they stirred I heard a trumpet call,
|
and everything was everyone and each one was all.
|
As they stirred Heaven and Earth, they combined to one,
|
and everything was everyone and each one was all.
|
As they stirred I heard a trumpet call,
|
and everything was everyone and each one was all.
|
|
-----------------
|
The Soapmakers
|
Clutch |