I can keep up
So shut up
I may seem weak
But that’s just me bein meek
Quit with the talk
Don’t be so shocked
The truth is you don’t know
What’s buried down low
So back down
Because you don’t know what you unbound
You’re tuff stuff
But I’ll tear you apart, I don’t bluff

Let me go to the mountains where the air fresh as the babbling spring. Where the night sky is unpolluted by man’s neon light. Where the moon shines in her glory her pail face looking over the rumpled face of the old mount. Where the wind blows gently through the trees whispering her secrets in the trees. She loves those who chase her and laughs at though who stand to face her. For she is a love of mine and she has her moods as lovers do. Sometimes she scares the travelers wailing in the night through the mount’s many wrinkles. At other times she gently runs her fingers across the face and through the hair of a stranger as she passes them by. Take me where they are. Take me to the brook where I may lye down and rest and when I awake with the mornin is kissing me with the morning dew. I may drink deep from natures well. Let me be with my friends for it is they who listen at all times. It is in them I confined my secrets. Oh, let me go to the mountains.

What is riches to a dying man?
What is fame to a drowning man?
What is glory to a lonely man?
What is talent to a broken man?

What are these things to me?
What are these things to you?

Do they hold a place of high worth
And for them all your effort you put fourth
Oh, how temporal our minds are
And how fleeting our desires are

A void we try to fill
A deadness we try to heal
A soul we try to revive
A corrupted heart we try to make alive

But for what, a moment of better feeling
But for what, a second of happiness that does not help the healing
But for what?

I am out of words to say
For I have spoken all day
But not just for that fact
But because people did not react
So it is a wast to speak
If people reject my words throughout the week
What shall I do?
Wast my words on a fool?
Well if they at least pretend to listen
I guess I’ll continue my writtin

The bigger they are the harder they fall
'Twas Rome that experienced this call
For mighty they were
But they were doomed for sure
For they thought themselves the greatest of all

They were very great though they started small
But pride comes before a fall
And as history shows
And as we all know
Rome was an example for all

In life we are born and we die
And in-between we figure out why