Two questions diverged in a yellow wood… Break the question, kiss the bliss What sound does a tree make when falling alone? The answer's one hand clapping, calling you home What is laughter that makes no sound? The joy that breaks you, spinning round and round If a mirror reflects what isn't there, Who's looking back with confused despair? Bliss is the question without the answer Bliss is the joke with no punchline, no dancer Bliss is the space where nothing makes sense Where everything breaks and you're finally immense Break the question, kiss the bliss Break the question, kiss the bliss Bliss, bliss, bliss, bliss — it's the cosmic abyss No sense, no sense, no sense — perfect nonsense Koan, koan, koan, koan — the answer you don't know Party chakra, party chakra, party chakra What color is silence when no one's around? It tastes like purple, wearing a crown If you ask a question nobody can answer, Does the question become the cosmic dancer? I stood at the fork where meaning died, And both roads led to the same place inside What's the point of a joke with no punchline in sight? You're already laughing — you just don't know why, right? One was certain, one was strange, But certainty was just a different change And years hence, I'll tell this tale with a sigh: I chose the koan that taught me to fly Two roads diverged, but I walked them both, And bliss was the breaking of every oath
