I once was a Baptist and on each Sunday morn'
I'd be in church praying as sure as you're born
We'd sing there like angels in that good harmony
But sin and salvation are no longer for me

'Cause now I'm a Buddhist, said my mantra each day
But I miss that hymn singing in the good Gospel way
So you sing to old Buddha and the wonders of Zen
We'll meet in Nirvana, yes, we'll be there then

My old friends don't like me since I shaved my head
They all talk about me as if I were dead
My good old Zen buddies they think I'm OK
But I can't get them singing more than one note a day

As we sit there cross legged eating brown rice and cheese
We chant out our mantra in four square harmony
We don't sing of salvation or a heavenly home
It's Zen gospel singing, just Om, Om, sweet Om