It must be some kind of holy day
Said the pedaler to the priest
Chanting extra kirtana
To help the good things increase
Thakuras wearing all the colors of the rainbow
you’ve got to be here to know
roses, leaves and fun things
leis made from what the farmers bring
over the first thoroughfare
Murkha and I enjoy the crisp autumn air
Dvitiya campa hatti, clank of the aluminum bat
The whalers and hospital curve fixed gear freaks looking phat
Long about the tennis park to the harbor boats are out
Natasala is dark a beast misses the light another gives a shout
I take off at the shop
Murkha sprints along as the street dips and hops
rBV is calling again
kalarupa is chasing him
moonlight shows through branches of the trees
back in time wonders never cease
one side it looks green
from the other there’s an orange sheen
slaying the demon with his lotus nails
center point of adbuta simha’s tale