Ya got trouble, right here in Encinitas!


Music Man Trouble1

Hari:

Well, either you’re closing your eyes

To a situation you do not wish to acknowledge

Or you are not aware of the caliber of disaster indicated

By the presence of a yoga class in your school district.

Ya got trouble, my friend, right here,

I say, trouble right here in Encinitas.

Why sure I’m a yoga teacher,

Certainly mighty proud I say

I’m always mighty proud to say it.

I consider that the hours I spend

On my mat doing yoga are golden.

Help you cultivate horse sense

And a cool head and a keen eye.

Never take and try to give

An iron-clad leave to yourself

From a five-minute headstand?

But just as I say,

It takes ujjayi breath and mula bandha to lift

Into side plank pose,

I say that any boob kin take

And shove their foot behind their head.

And I call that sloth.

The first big step on the road

To the depths of med-i-Tay–

I say, first, warrior one from a down dog,

Then kombucha from a bottle.

An’ the next thing ya know,

Your son is doin’ monkey pose

In a Lulu suit.

And list’nin to some big out-a-town Jasper

Hearin’ him tell about self-realization.

Not a wholesome bible class, no!

But a class where they set down right on a cushion!

Like to see some stuck-up yoga’boy

Doin’ jnana mudra? Make your blood boil?

Well, I should say.

Friends, lemme tell you what I mean.

Ya got one, two, three, four, well, eight limbs in yoga’s system.

Limbs that mark the diff’rence

Between a gentlemen and a bum,

With a capital “B,”

And that rhymes with “P” and that stands for yoga!

And all week long your Encinitas

Youth’ll be frittern away,

I say your young men’ll be frittern!

Frittern away their noontime, suppertime, choretime too!

Get’in down with Scorpion Pose,

Never mind gittin’ Dandelions pulled

Or the screen door patched or the tofu pounded.

Never mind pumpin’ any water

‘Til your parents are caught with the Cistern empty

On a Saturday night and that’s trouble,

Oh, yes we got lots and lots a’ trouble.

I’m thinkin’ of the kids in the over-sized pants,

Shirt-tail young ones, peekin’ in the yoga

center window after school, look, folks!

Right here in Encinitas.

Trouble with a capital “T”

And that rhymes with “P” and that stands for yoga!

Now, I know all you folks are the right kinda parents.

I’m gonna be perfectly frank.

Would ya like to know what kinda conversation goes

On while they’re loafin’ around that studio?

They’re talkin’ ‘bout karma, tryin’ out mantras,

Doin’ the pranayama like Cigarette Fiends!

And braggin’ all about

How they’re gonna cover up their tell-tale health with wheezing.

One fine night, they leave the studio,

Headin’ for the dance at the kirtan!

Ecstatic men and blissful women!

And brazen, shameless chanting

That’ll lure your son and your daughter

With the promise of sat, chit, and ananda!

Mass-staria!

Friends, the still mind is the devil’s playground!

– – –

People:

Trouble, oh we got trouble,

Right here in Encinitas!

With a capital “T”

That rhymes with “P”

And that stands for yoga,

That stands for yoga.

We’ve surely got trouble!

Right here in Encinitas,

Right here!

Gotta figger out a way

To keep the young ones Christian after school!

Yoga, yoga, yoga, yoga, yoga…

– – –

Hari:

Mothers of Encinitas!

Heed the warning before it’s too late!

Watch for the tell-tale sign of sadhana!

The moment your son leaves the house,

Does he wind his Tulasi beads around his neck?

Is there an incense stain on his index finger?

The Yoga Sutras hidden in the corn crib?

Is he starting to memorize quotes from the

Bhagavad Gita?

Are certain words creeping into his conversation?

Words like “Om”?

And “Hare Krishna”?

Well, if so my friends,

Ya got trouble,

Right here in Encinitas!

With a capital “T”

And that rhymes with “P”

And that stands for Yoga.

We’ve surely got trouble!

Right here in Encinitas!

Remember the Maine, Plymouth Rock and the Golden Rule!

Oh, we’ve got trouble.

We’re in terrible, terrible trouble.

That game with the Surya Namaskar is a devil’s tool!

Oh yes we got trouble, trouble, trouble!

With a “T”! Gotta rhyme it with “P”!

And that stands for Yoga!!!

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