Siddartha, I know you.
I have known your pain.
I have heard the laughter
And I have touched the rain.

The road you are descending
Is a mirror of my own.
The scars upon your temple,
Not shared by you alone.

The voices in your river,
The ending that never comes,
Our symphonies go onward
In our universal home.

So, if you take a wrong road
And think you've lost your way,
Come warm inside my mansion-
All mine is yours, the same.


Garnet Robbie © 1972