I live alone on the mountaintop,
in a hut made of branches and dirt.
I never brush my hair anymore,
and I never wash my shirt.
There's nothing to keep me company here
but birds and trees and sky;
I've gotta say, though, I think it's grand
to let city life pass me by.
How did I end up on the mountaintop?
Well, my story's a little bit weird:
I, when I was young, had a phobia,
it was homework and tests that I feared.
To wake up to a school day would give me the sweats,
the mere thought of it filled me with dread;
when they expect me to prove that I'm learning
I would much rather stay in my bed.
So I never, ever did homework,
my blank tests made my teachers so mad
but nobody could coax me or force me,
not even my mom or my dad!
I seem to remember a book report
which for me was the very last straw;
read, write, memorize and perform in a week?
it should be against the law!
So I planned an escape from my schoolwork,
had to leave friends and family behind;
but I had to stop off at the library first
to see what books on survival I'd find.
Well, I found books on camping and wildlife
and I got me a suitable tome,
but I knew that book-stealing was risky
in the end I would leave it at home.
So I secretly worked every night of that week
writing notes about mushrooms and shrubs,
and I wrote up a way to remember my tricks
on shelters, potatoes and grubs.
All too soon the day came, and I ran away
I left cards that said "Don't look for me"
I clutched at my notes and recited my words,
this was it, I was finally free!
Of course, all of that was just ages ago
I've been happy, a hermit for years
though it's not what I should, I've become very good
at running away from my fears!