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