Xtc

Drowning here in summer?s cauldron under mats of flower

lavaPlease don?t pull me out,

this is how I would want to goBreathing in the boiling

butter, fruit of sweating golden IncaPlease don?

t heed my shout, I?m relaxing the undertowWhen Miss

Moon lays down and Sir Sun stands upMe,

I?m found floating round and roundLike a bug in brandy

in this big bronze cupDrowning here in summer?

s cauldronTrees are dancing drunk with nectar,

grass is waving underwaterPlease don?

t pull me out, this is how I would want to goInsect

bomber Buddhist droning, copper chord of August?

s organPlease don?t heed my shout,

I?m relaxing the undertowWhen Miss Moon lays down

(In her hilltop bed)And Sir Sun stands up

(Raise his regal head)Me, I?

m found floating round and roundLike a bug in brandy

in this big bronze cupDrowning here in summer?

s cauldronDrowning here in summer?

s cauldronDrowning here in summer?

s cauldronDrowning here in summer?

s cauldronDrowning here in summer?s cauldron