Om money padme om

Om money padme om
Don’t stress on my bliss, babe
Om money padme om
Saved you again, Immanuel
Om money padme om
Got a handle on the Buddha, bitch.

Lovingly, caressingly, we paw-paw our way back through the system of the sea
Like fishes in the oceans of karma, we are delightful, abundant
Caste-fixed like a tropical fractal
Frenetic like a furnace and ripe for the Kali yurga appetite
Hung like an ox, the black deity rides her from behind
And stars are born, and rain falls upon the earth, and words of music are uttered
Cause he’s time gambled, brotherly exiled, waiting, this holy enlightened being, for pay back.

Om money padme om
Don’t stress on my bliss, babe
Om money padme om
Saved you again, Immanuel
Om money padme om
Got a handle on the Buddha, bitch.

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