I am heading for a time of quiet

When my restlessness is past

And I can lie down on my blanket

And release my fists at last



I am heading for a time of solitude

Of peace without illusions

When the perfect circle

Marries all beginnings and conclusions



And when they say

That you’re not good enough

Well the answer is

You’re not

But who are they

Or what is it

That eats at what you’ve got

With the hunger of ambition

For the change inside the purse

They are handcuffs on the soul, my friends

Handcuffs on the soul

And worse



I am heading for a place of quiet

Where the sage and sweetgrass grow

By a lake of sacred water

From the mountain’s melted snow