The midday hours, why do they chirp, changing hue?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
Why, with little leaps,
do squirrels of heartbeats prance and pursue?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
The midday hours, why do they chirp, changing hue?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
Why, with little leaps,
do squirrels of heartbeats prance and pursue?
I don't know, I don't know.
Why is the weather slightly mad?
Or is my mood a playful rogue, a prankster?
The taste of whims,
how does it taste, so full and glad?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
Why, with a thousand gulmohars,
are the branches of desires now clad?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
Why, with little leaps,
do squirrels of heartbeats prance and pursue?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
A new friendship with the sky, it has begun,
the earth, in jealousy, turns its face and sighs,
"You are changing, you're becoming undone."
Life, too, now weary of counting,
with the numbers, in a verse that softly flies,
it is reciting, a half-sung, secret run.
Leaving courts of right and wrong behind,
I go my own way, to my own skies.
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
Why, with little leaps,
do squirrels of heartbeats prance and pursue?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
I don't know, I don't know.
Why is the weather slightly mad?
Or is my mood a playful rogue, a prankster?
The taste of whims,
how does it taste, so full and glad?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
Why, with a thousand gulmohars,
are the branches of desires now clad?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
Why, with little leaps,
do squirrels of heartbeats prance and pursue?
I don't know, I don't know, I don't know, I don't know.
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