Mr. Altig’s Overview of the Wonderful Dharma of the Lotus Sutra

A raw, acoustic song.

This is a song about being stuck in a prison of your own making, calling the “poison water ‘sweet, good wine.’” It’s for anyone who’s been so lost for so long, they’ve “forgotten what goodness even feels like.”

It’s about the paradox of grace: the moment a guide offers you a beautiful lie—a sweet illusion—just to give you a place to rest, only to take it away once you’re strong enough to face the truth.

It’s a song about the rest stop, not the final destination.

Lyrics:
(Verse 1) 
I built my house on a crooked line 
Called the poison water “sweet, good wine” 
Called the anger in my blood “a righteous spine” 
And this whole damn prison… I called it “mine.”

(Verse 2) 
I walk in circles ’til my feet are raw 
My “right and wrong” is just my favorite flaw 
I chase a pleasure that just bites and claws 
And I don’t know how to live… by any other laws.

(Chorus) 
Is there a goodness that I plain forgot? 
A taste of joy that can’t be sold or bought? 
My heart’s a lock, and the key is lost 
I never even stopped to count the cost. 
I don’t know how to do good… 
Hell, I’m not even sure I would.

(Verse 3) 
I was on that highway, bleedin’ out my faith 
My spirit just a pale and tired wraith 
I told the guide, “I’m givin’ up the fight.” 
(The guitar gets softer, almost tender) 
He said, “I know… but rest here for the night.” 
And he raised a city, shinin’ in the sand 
Said, “This is home, son… this is the promised land.”

(Verse 4) 
And that illusion… Lord, it tasted sweet 
I slept for ages, got back on my feet I thought 
I’d made it, thought my journey’s end 
Was in that city, with my newfound friend 
(Guitar stops. One beat of cold silence) 
But when I woke up strong… he just smiled and waved his hand 
And there was nothin’ but the desert…
Nothin’ but the sand.

(Chorus 2 – The Turn) 
He said, “That was the goodness that you plain forgot… 
“The taste of joy that can’t be sold or bought. 
“Your heart’s a lock… but here’s the key: 
“That city wasn’t for you… 
(Voice breaks, just a little) 
…That city was me.”

(Pivot) 
I don’t know how to do good… 
(Guitar hangs on a suspended, aching chord) 
But he just stood there… 
And he would.

(Outro) 
(The first “stuck” guitar pattern returns. But it’s slower now. It’s not “stuck” anymore… it’s “walking.”) 
He just stood there… and he would. … 
My house is built on a crooked line… 
But I’m walkin’… 
And the road is fine. 
I’m just walkin’… 
And the road is fine. 
(Guitar pattern plays twice, then stops cold.)