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You say the hill's too steep to climb climbing |
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You say you'd like to see me try climbing |
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You pick the place and I'll choose the time |
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And I'll climb the hill in my own way |
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Just wait a while for the right day |
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And as I rise above the tree-line and the clouds |
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I look down hearing the sound |
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Of the things you've said today |
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Fearlessly the idiot faced the crowd smiling |
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Merciless the magistrate turns round frowning |
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And who's the fool who wears the crown |
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No doubt in your own way |
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And every day is the right day |
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And as you rise above the fear-lines in his brow |
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You look down hear the sound of the faces in the crowd |
