Or, you know, your morning coffee. Or wait until later this afternoon. Or … or .... Look, I got nothin’. My bad jokes aren’t even good this morning. But something about the guitars goes here.
On the following Friday as I turned out the light, Grandma came and knocked at my door. “Wake up King, wake up my dear. I am gonna show you about the House of Amon.” Oh, it is time for tea; it is time again. “Even your mother is present; we made her sleep in my rocking chair.” At first I felt really scared, but there was no reason to, as I saw the knife sneaking out from Grandmother’s dress. Then it cut a tiny wound in my mother’s little hand. Oh, it is time for tea; it is time again. Blood was running into the teapot, then I heard Them laugh. “A bit of this in a cup of tea is what it takes to set Them free. You will hear Them telling stories from far beyond this Earth.” What I saw and what I heard made me want to stay and learn. I really hope this dream will never end. It’s hard to describe the kind of feeling that went on in my mind―a Paradise. Hearing Their stories and feeling Their warmth, we laughed with tears in our eyes. From the first cup of tea to the last drop of blood, nothing seemed to matter at all anymore. My mother? She didn’t exist, to me. Oh, I felt so heavenly. Oh, it is time for tea; it is time again.