Sit still and hear the sitar of the past
Its honeyed fingers sweetening the brain
Rousing dusty senses as we dance
It lit our fire. Now relight our fire!
Bright clothes and dancing in the dark
And swaying to the Stones and Mama Cass
The ghostly arms of marijuana smoke
Reach out to tempt the present to fall back
Stony Now is losing to the past
Its present day is seen to put to waste
Our senses and the midnight mysteries
Of love and madnesses that we embraced
The barren Present has not proved itself
The promises it held did not take place
Our shriveled senses swell to recognize
The sitar\'s call back to the Garden\'s grace